


Overdrive: Freedom Rising

by CaptainExtremis



Series: Sonic Overdrive: Act 1 [1]
Category: Sonic the Hedgehog (Archie Comic), Sonic the Hedgehog - All Media Types, Sonic the Hedgehog: The Animated Series
Genre: Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, F/M, Gen, Humor, I apologize for butchering the French language, Illustrated, Like, Mobians hate Overlanders, Overlanders hate Mobians, Robotnik did not get here by being a pushover, Sci-Fi, Trystan survived for seven years alone because it works, first part of a series, it's all mutually-assured destruction, more tags to come until this damn thing is finished, severe canon divergence, unholy fusion of the TV show and comics, you have no idea
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-22
Updated: 2018-03-05
Packaged: 2018-08-24 02:34:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 94,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8353513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainExtremis/pseuds/CaptainExtremis
Summary: Trystan Cronus finally leaves the confines of New Pacific City seven years after  it was decimated by Dr. Robotnik. When he stumbles upon Knothole Village, he is forced to team up with the race that was once rival to his in order to save Mobius.
However, there are stranger things lurking in the shadows, and Dr. Robotnik is planning something bigger than ever before...





	1. Author's Notes

Before you begin, I think I should play it safe with a disclaimer.

First off...welcome! Glad you decided to take the time to check out my brainchild. I’ve had this idea swimming around in my brain since 8th grade, and now, after countless retconns and rewrites, I think it’s time for a debut. It’s not my first, but one of the few written things I’ve posted (thanks, social anxiety!).

Second, I claim no ownership over Sonic the Hedgehog and the affiliated characters. I only claim ownership of what few characters I’ve injected into this story; they should be easy to find, unless you don’t read the comics religiously and have no idea that someone named Meredith Sanders is Dr. Robotnik’s aunt in Archie’s canon. Seriously, I wish I was making this up.

Speaking of, this story is an AU (although maybe you could call it a Universe Alteration, but I think that’s really stretching it) based loosely on Archie, with major elements from the SatAM TV show thrown in and stirred for a delicious entree, if your standards ain’t too high.

The story will be written in multiple story arcs, and while I don’t know exactly how many to write before I end it, I’m thinkin’...more than five, at least six, maybe seven. Maybe. Don’t quote me on it.

Lastly, this will be rated “Teen and up,” as you’ve seen, but I may have to bump up the rating later. Again, maybe. Not sure. And if I do, it won’t be for awhile, maybe five to six more arcs, depends (I’m pulling numbers out of my ass here). As it stands, you’ll just have to look out for swearing, violence, some blood, and dirty humor. Also, Trystan is the walking embodiment of memes, sarcasm, and bad jokes. You have been warned.


	2. Fallen Lights

“Yo, Z! You better haul ass or Armin might actually beat you!”

“Heh. You wish, Decker!”

Even late into the evening, New Pacific City was alive with the hustle and bustle of the day. People scurrying around, finishing their jobs, packing up, going home. It gave off a sense not unlike nostalgia, perhaps the feelings of one lost in the memories of their younger days. But not everyone had these feelings. Some people saw the setting sun and were reminded of tomorrow, and all the adventure that it brings; certainly none more so than the four Cronus brothers, racing each other back home.

Decker and Armin, second and third youngest respectively, were out in front, leading the charge back to their apartment, where they had been living in their whole lives. Decker wore a long-sleeve athletics shirt and shorts, cut off just below the knees. Armin went sleeveless, which accentuated his tan skin and legs, also covered by shorts. Their hair stood out, Decker’s being green and Armin’s being light purple, thanks to their Overlander heritage (something Decker took immense pride in). Z was right behind them, dressed in his signature royal blue sweater and custom-made cargo pants, a special gift on his fourteenth birthday from his parents. His hair was a perfect shade of blonde, not too light, nor too dark. He was the ringleader of his “gang,” being the oldest, and remained the most charismatic. His name was also a heavy topic of debate among associates of the four brothers. Whether Z was his real name or not, he had made sure that secret would be taken to his grave.

And finally, lagging behind everyone else and panting like a basset hound on a hot summer Sunday was Trystan, the youngest. He had been an unexpected surprise, but their old man took any help he could get with his job. He had also been blessed with a mutant gene that gave him five digits as opposed to the standard four (everyone was so proud of him). He wore what would be expected of a twelve-year old in New Pacific: polyester shorts, brand-name sneakers and a T-shirt with a popular energy drink pasted on the front. The poor kid was gasping for breath and sweating a waterfall.

“G-guys…! Wait up!” Trystan bent over, sucked in as much air as he could, and kept running after them, despite the burning sensation in his legs.

They all rushed through back alleys, vaulted over fences and dumpsters, and finally came to an apartment building from around the back. Z, Decker, and Armin were gazing up at the roof for a couple seconds before Decker nudged Z.

“Hey, Z…”

“Yeah, Decker?”

Decker ran forward and jumped to the lowest level of the fire escape hatch, pulling himself up and over the railing before calling down, “Last one to the roof is a dirty little Mobian!”

Z chuckled as he watched Decker keep going up, and Armin looked at him as well. He just shrugged and jumped up to grab the stairway, pulling it to the ground and climbing up. Z grabbed ahold of the lowest platform and was about to follow the others when he heard the desperate, out-of-breath call of his little brother. “Z…! Big bro, wait up!”

Z froze and looked back down at Trystan, who jogged up to where they had been standing a moment before doubling over and downing as much air as possible. “C’mon, kid, everyone’s waitin’ up top,” he said with a noticeable concerned tone.

Trystan looked up at Z. “I...I can’t jump that high! Please help me out, big brother! Please…?”

Z remained silent for a moment before he sighed, rolled his eyes, and hopped back down, over the railing. He strode over to Trystan and gingerly picked him up. Trystan latched onto his sibling for a piggyback ride and gripped even tighter as Z jumped up and pulled the stairway down again. They climbed halfway up in silence before Z decided to break it.

“Y’know I won’t be able to carry you forever, kiddo.”

“I know. That’s why I’m taking advantage of it now!”

Z threw his head back a little and laughed. He inherited his mother’s sense of humor and not his father’s, unlike Decker, thank God. “Still,” he continued, “I really gotta start training ya like I trained Decker and Armin. If we start now, you should be able to vault a low fence in five months.”

Trystan whined. “Z, if I can’t vault a big fence in five months then what’s the p-o-o-o-int?”

“Practice, little guy, practice,” Z told him. “Besides, you keep saying you wanna run like us, so that means I gotta start trainin’ ya like a runner.”

“...Okay,” Trystan rested his head on Z’s shoulder as he carried him the rest of the way to the roof. When they made it up after a short ladder climb, Decker and Armin were already lounging around near the far ledge. Z quickly let Trystan get off in preparation for when Decker noticed them.

As if on cue, Decker strode up and punched Z’s arm, exclaiming, “Hah! Z and Trys are the little vermin again!”

Z just put his hand in his brother’s face and lightly pushed him aside with an added, “Can it, Decker.” He walked over to Armin and propped himself up against the rooftop AC unit. “And Armin, be careful. I don’t wanna go to bed tonight with another ‘Impact Crater’ incident to worry about.”

Trystan giggled when he remembered how hard the “Impact Crater Incident” had hit the local news, no pun intended. He settled down as he walked over to where Armin was lounging and sat down beside him, kicking his feet as they watched the setting sun, and in no time Decker and Z had joined them. Z trussed up Trystan’s hair playfully. They sat in silence for awhile until Trystan spoke up.

“Hey, guys…? You really think we’re gonna be able to move out someday and get famous? Like mom and dad wanted to do when they were young, like us?”

Decker laughed loudly, like he always did, and immediately stood up and pointed out across the city, into the horizon holding the sinking sun.

“Trys, buddy, they’re gonna know our names from here to Yuraisha!”

* * *

 

The smog in the air was thick today.

_Seven years…_

The dirty, polluted rain was coming down heavy. Heavier than usual.

_Seven years and I can’t believe I haven’t left yet._

He scoffed. The grin he wore was slightly forced. _‘Bout time I changed that._

The young man stood up to his full height; the seven years spent in isolation had not been kind to him. His jet-black hair was matted and untrimmed, his skin was pale from the lack of sun that usually shined down from the once-clear sky. He was more gaunt than he had been when he was twelve, due to having to scavenge for food constantly (or whatever looked edible at the time), and of course, puberty couldn’t wait to screw his body chemistry up. The glimmer of innocence in his eyes was long extinguished, lost during what his twelve-year-old self called, “The Great Conquering.” There was no doubt left. Trystan had changed, and not entirely for the better.

He threw the hood of his sweatshirt off with a flick of his wrist, its blue shades now dulled and worn. A somber reminder of his siblings and the life he lost. The skyline of New Pacific City was drastically different than the one he knew from seven years prior. Every last building had been coated in metal, although now it was rusty, and Trystan was very thankful he hadn’t caught tetanus by sheer dumb luck. He had remained in the city limits and underground in the sewers, since the city center was too heavily populated for his tastes. There had been two skyscrapers in the centre, but now they looked more like giant radio spires. They scared the young Trystan too much for him to set foot there, except in rare cases when his curiosity got the best of him. The last time he did that though, he heard an explosion some two-dozen blocks away and every machine in the vicinity went to investigate. He swore he’d never go back again after that scare.

The downtown district had been converted into one giant factory for, what he guessed, were war machines. Sometimes, they churned out humanoid robots with dome-shaped heads, colored such a deep blue, they were practically black. Sometimes they spat out giant tanks. Rarely, they released some sort of robotic abomination that was rolled out, flown off, or otherwise taken away from New Pacific for some ungodly purpose that Trystan really preferred not to think about.

“As long as they ain’t knocking on my doors,” and he shrugged slightly. He looked over the edge of the building he stood on and jumped down to the adjacent rooftop, which was a couple stories below. He hit the surface and rolled and kept running. He hadn’t received much training with Z in freerunning prior to The Great Conquering, but he had enough agility to get himself up to second-floor ledges, which was usually enough for him to climb up to the rooftops. He utilized it a lot, considering that there was nobody left in the city.

Nobody sane, at least.

Trystan kept a moderate pace as he ran back to his old apartment. He used it as a safehouse to store all his belongings, and just about now, he was thinking it was a great time to actually leave. He made it back in no time at all, considering he knew the city limits like the back of his hand. He vaulted from an adjacent building onto the fire escape and ran right up to the roof. He got to the maintenance access door and swung it open (the only reason it hadn’t gotten rusty was because Trystan kept using it). “Finally,” he sighed as he shuffled down the empty stairwell to his floor.

The building, although sturdy from the outside, was slowly decaying on the inside, cracks in the wall and peeling paint all over. Trystan’s floor was the only decent looking one in the place, and he was surprised the whole thing hadn’t collapsed yet. “Guess it just gives me a good reason to get the hell out of here,” he joked with himself. He still didn’t laugh.

He reached his door and turned the knob. After trying to get the door to budge, he thought “Screw it,” and kicked it open. The door flew off its hinges and crashed into the floor so hard he heard the floorboards crack and give way. Trystan looked it over, nodded quickly, and retreated to his room. “Yep, I think that’s my cue to exit.” He opened up his old dresser drawers and began grabbing anything he could think of that might help him, all the while mulling over his choices.

“Why? Why did I not leave sooner?” He sighed. He already knew. “Too scared? Oh, sure. I mean, it’s nothing major, I just saw some airship obliterate an entire city block one day and I got torn apart from my family. No big deal...God, I thought I’d just have to wait it out and they’d come and find me. Curse you, twelve-year-old me. You were a dumb bitch and I’m glad I don’t have’t associate with you anymore!”

It didn’t take long to pack. Well, “pack” was a loose term. Trystan was more or less just running around his shoddy room trying to remember where he’d put his three key items for survival: his PECK, ZPECR, and car keys. Technically speaking, though, they were all Z’s; Hand-me-downs from long before their father’s time, the PECK and ZPECR were acronyms for “Plasma-enchanced combat knife,” and “Zero-point energy combat revolver,” respectively.

The PECK was a normal-looking combat knife, except it had been developed sixty-some years ago using true Overlander plasma tech. The front edge was gone, but pressure sensors would trigger burning plasma to come out and complete the blade, much like the swords Overlanders used in their wars. It could cut through metal like butter. The ZPECR, on the other hand, was more intricate. It utilized hard-light bullets that could change their properties depending on the parameters that were activated with a switch on the handle. There was a setting for “stun,” “rapid-fire,” and even the option for nanites to morph themselves into a silencer. Trystan had used its lethal settings only twice. The first time he used it, he shot a humanoid robot that looked more like a normal person, and not one of the ones that came out of a factory. He thought it was bleeding oil. The second time he shot one, it fell over and began to short circuit. He noticed it was clutching the area he shot it, as if it could feel pain. Trystan had no idea if they could actually feel anything or not, but he decided to only use the stun setting from then on.

The car keys, however, weren’t car keys. It was a cylinder on a keychain, and it looked like a magic wand of sorts, but smaller; easily portable. There was a small spring lever on it that, when pulled, opened the top of the cylinder. Z explained to him years ago that the cylinder used hard-light tech to create billions of little nanites that were specifically designed to facilitate transport. When the hatch was opened, they all swarmed out to turn into a maglev bike that could switch between a moderately fast “glide” mode and an extreme “speed-bike” mode. Trystan had used it dozens of times before, but considering the city streets were narrow and short, he’d rarely used the speed-bike setting.

He was about to set off before he remembered something he’d kept hidden away in his dad’s safe, behind a picture of his family. Back when they had all been together, of course. He made his way into his parents’ old room and threw the safe open after he quickly entered the combination for the lock (it was second nature to him by now). Inside was a small blanket, the only thing he could find that would keep it clean. He retrieved the blanket and unwrapped it to make sure it was still there. Sure enough, the old family heirloom was still in its place, safely nestled in its silk embrace.

Trystan smiled. It was shaped like a diamond but colored like an amethyst. When he asked his dad about it, he said it had been passed down to them since before recorded history, an old treasure of some noble Overlander house in days long passed. The gemstone had been Trystan’s closest and only friend during his first couple years in isolation in New Pacific. He talked to it when he wasn’t out scrounging (he was young, what could he say?), and it always responded by flickering violet light. It scared him a little at first, since he had never seen the gem do it before, hell, he had never seen it out in an open space for longer than two minutes before, but he eventually got used to it. He remembered when he was trying to adjust to living alone in his squalid apartment, without his parents, without Z, Decker, even Armin. He cried himself to sleep most nights for the few months after The Great Conquering, but sometimes, the gem would glow softly, like a night light. It calmed him down. Purple was always his favorite color.

He rewrapped the old family heirloom and stuffed it into a knapsack, along with a week’s supply of clothes and canned food. He’d been able to stockpile the stuff for years, rooting through dumpsters, looting old stores, sometimes finding a can or two in the sewers. New Pacific was certainly big enough to find a lot of food and water; in the past few months, though, he’d been running short, considering he’d practically wiped the city limits clean and there was no way he’d willingly get within ten feet of the factory district again. He slung the bag over his shoulder and headed back outside, all the way back up to the roof. He looked up at the dark sky, and off into the distance, where the buildings slowly got smaller and became more sparse, until there was just flat land as far as the eye could see.

He quickly placed his hand over his collar to see if he still had his last keepsake he needed to feel satisfied. Years of wearing it had dulled his senses and made it hard to tell if it was still on or not. He felt the bump under his shirt that belonged to his silver locket. He opened it up when he felt alone to look at the smiling faces of his parents and brothers all conserved in a timeless photo.

He breathed in deeply, trying to cherish the last memories of home he had...sour as they had turned.

“Alright…” He pulled out his keys. “Let’s do this shit.”


	3. Freedom Rising

 

_~Some dozens of miles away, in the shadow of Robotropolis~_

 

“‘Scuse me, scrapheap, comin’ through!”

The SWATbots barring the door had no time to react as the blue blur threw himself into their midst, rebounding around the walls with his spin-dash and knocking them around and all over until only he was left standing. Sonic shrugged mockingly as he scanned the short-circuiting remains of Robotnik’s task force. “ _Tsk, tsk._ Thought I gave ya a fair warning.”

“Sonic, little less talk, little more ‘make a break for it,’” Sally scolded him as she ran by clutching a few data drives.

“ _Pshht,_ I hear ya, Sal.” Sonic wound up and took off after her through the clear doorway, catching up in no time and sweeping her up into his arms as they raced across a catwalk in a giant warehouse. There were a few aircrafts docked on the bottom floor, most likely prototypes, considering the sheet metal in some places replaced actual plating and there were large linen sheets covering up some portions of the vehicles. All in all, they looked unfinished.

Sonic kept running, and busted through a door that led back outside, across the skyline of Robotropolis. There were more SWATbots waiting for them, led there by the alarm they had triggered a few minutes earlier, some flying personal hover carriers. Either way, they were all shooting at Sonic and Sally, but since he was carrying her, they really had no chance of getting a clean hit. Sonic just ran erratically across the bridges and building tops his old home, veering left and right to avoid being hit, although he could run in straight line and not have to worry about anything, considering none of Robotnik’s goons could keep up with him. They kept moving until the sounds of laser fire began to weaken and Sonic jumped down to street level and let Sally stand up.

Sonic spun his head around to get a good view of the street. No Robians nearby, and they had lost their pursuers. There wasn’t anyone else in sight.

“Hey, where’s Ant ‘n Bunnie? Didn’t you tell’em to meet right here?”

“Of course I did, Sonic. They must be late is all.”

As if on cue, they heard someone call, “Ya’ll mean fashionably late, sugah!” Over to the right, from behind a street corner, came Bunnie and Antoine, running as fast as they could. Antoine bent over and started gasping for breath when they got close enough to the other two. “Ya’ll got whatcha came for, sugah-hog?” asked Bunnie.

“It was too easy, Bunnie. The SWAT heads didn’t even know what hit’em!”

Sally showed her the memory drives to confirm and continued, “How about you? Did you get the server chip?”

Bunnie smirked and flicked her wrist. A slot opened up on her robotic arm and spat out a computer chip into the air, which she quickly snatched and handed to Sally. “Nothin’ to it with Nic around, sugah,” and she handed Sally her personal computer back as well. “Thanks fer loanin’ her to us.”

“No problem. Better get back to Knothole, then.” Sally strapped NICOLE to one of her boots and looked over at Sonic. “And do it before Robotnik gets the chance to find us.”

As soon as Sally finished her thought, spotlights popped up from all around, manned by SWATbots, and a raspy, hateful voice came up over the city-wide intercom.

“Going somewhere, hedgehog...?”

Everyone started looking around, Sally trying to find an opening that would provide the least resistance and least dangerous escape while Bunnie looked from one SWATbot to the other. They were perched on building tops, coming out of alleys, and some dropped from their hovercraft. She looked about ready to turn them all into scrap. Antoine was trying to fight the urge to run screaming, but it was pretty evident he was losing.

Sonic, however, didn’t do anything right away. He just crossed his arms and tapped his foot. “As a matter of fact, Ro **butt** nik…”

He finished his thought by launching himself into a few SWATbots coming from the front and using that momentum to send himself barrelling into the SWAT units in their hovercraft, bouncing between them like a pinball on a scoring streak. From there, he flew across a couple of the rooftops and destroyed the SWATbots aiming down at the Freedom Fighters below before he touched back down on the pavement and ran in a circle, snatching up his friends in one swift motion. Along with everyone in tow, Sonic took off down the boulevard.

“...We were just on our way out!”

With Robotnik’s forces shaken up, getting out of Robotropolis from their current position was simple. All it took was a couple lefts, some rights, and the Freedom Fighters were back out in the fields just outside the city. After Sonic finally stopped on the threshold of the Great Forest, everyone cheered and headed deep inside. They walked into its heart and eventually entered a small clearing with a solitary tree stump. Sonic ran over to a tree, jumped up and pulled down a fake vine, causing a panel on the tree to flip open, revealing a number pad. It was a recent installment on Sally’s request, considering she wanted a backup solution in case someone was lucky enough to find the vine that used to open up the slide to Knothole Village. Sonic punched in the code and the stump in the clearing popped open. He was about to jump down when Antoine, although still a bit shaken by the ride back, stopped him from climbing up. “Ant, whaddaya doin’?”

“Well, Sonic, eef you ‘aven’t noticed, zere are ladies present.”

Sonic scoffed. “So?” He didn’t wait for Antoine’s reply before he jumped into the hole, whooping all the way down.

Antoine stuttered as he watched Sonic go before rolling his eyes. _“Bâtard stupide,” he muttered_ under his breath. “‘E never learns.” He quickly brushed his uniform off and bowed graciously (and made a real show of doing it) as he motioned for Sally and Bunnie to go first.

Sally bowed her head to him, said thanks and followed Sonic, and Bunnie did likewise. After Antoine had disappeared down the stump, it shut itself.

Within minutes, the four members of the resistance crossed a bridge over a small pond crowded with fish and entered Knothole proper. The trees covered up the small basin very well, and considering Robotnik’s violent hylophobia, it meant he could only view the forest with satellites and at high altitudes, reducing his ability to pick up details and allowing Knothole to go unseen. The trees themselves supported hundreds of small cottages, used as barracks for the residents of the village. On the ground level there wasn’t a lot except a large structure in the center of the village that served as the community hub. It was mostly used as an outdoor mess hall on top of other things.

The group had barely even crossed the open field leading into the village when two other Freedom Fighters saw them entering. One was Rotor Walrus, the oldest Freedom Fighter in the village when Robotnik took over, and now he was forty-five and still going strong. The other, on the complete opposite end of the spectrum, was Amy Rose, a spunky pink hedgehog they had met on a reconnaissance mission to Emerald Hill Zone. Sonic had managed to save her from an encroaching horde of Badniks and SWATbots and she had head-over-heels for him ever since (much to Sonic’s chagrin). As soon as she saw him approaching, she perked up, shouted “Sonic!” and rushed toward him and held on as if her life depended on it. Although used to it by now, Sonic still felt very “un-manly” when Amy bear-hugged him like that. Rotor on the other hand, approached them in a very laid-back manner. “Hey guys. Mission go well?”

“Come on Rotor, with Sonic around, any mission’s bound to go well!” Amy interjected.

“Yeah, well, had to put dents in a few SWATbots, but we’re back in one piece. So, yeah, we good.”

“Speak for yourzelf, _hérisson,_ ” Antoine mumbled as he wiped his forehead.

Rotor turned his attention to Sally. “Did you get the files on whatever Robotnik is busy inventing now?”

“As much as we could.” She handed him the data drives and Bunnie handed him the computer’s microchip.

“Alright,” he huffed as he got a better grip on the data. “Come on. The sooner I decrypt this data, the better.” The gathered party quickly followed Rotor to decipher whatever Robotnik was planning.

* * *

 

The old throne room for the deposed King Nigel Acorn had been repurposed into Robotnik’s main observatory following his takeover. There were video feeds in a semicircular position all over the front wall, with a chair placed in the center of the circular room that could swivel three-hundred sixty degrees around. In this chair sat Dr. Julian “Robotnik” Kintobor, a fat blob of a man who wore a dictatorial jumpsuit modeled after ones Overlanders in positions of power used, albeit heavily modified and tailored to Robotnik’s vain tastes. It was mostly red and black, with shoulder pauldrons that stuck far out, and he had a cape draped over his shoulders. His soulless red pupils scanned the video feeds that were currently up onscreen, replaying Sonic trashing the battalion he had sent to stop him and getting away with his comrades.

Robotnik stared at the videos. If he could project physical manifestations of hate from his eyes, they would have melted holes through the viewscreens several times by now. He sighed slowly, a sigh that was a sure indicator he was trying to control his temper. His nephew, Colin Jr., or “Snively,” as everyone called him, looked from his uncle back to the video footage of Sonic and the Freedom Fighters making their getaway. He knew Robotnik was going to explode at any minute now. It was inevitable. It was just a matter of _when_ he’d lose his cool.

“I...I’m afraid they got away, sir,” Snively muttered as he turned back around to look at the console he was working at.

“I’m not **blind** , Snively.”

Snively shut up and kept staring at the keyboard on the desk, waiting for the next inevitable question. “How much data on my Auto-Dusters... **did** they steal, Snively?”

“Before or after the RDAH system detected them, Doctor Robotnik?”

“What do you think...? **All of it!** ”

Snively brought his head out of his hand and began punching keywords into his keyboard. “With my figures, the Freedom Fighters managed to download eighty percent of the data we have before the RDAH system detected a breach.”

“Give me explanations, Snively, not numbers!” Snively didn’t need to turn around to know he would be able to see at least five veins popping out of Robotnik’s forehead.

“...They stole all the schematics, several locations of our prototypes, and three-fifths of the data we had on materials to build the Auto-Dusters.”

Robotnik spoke slowly as he tried to keep himself level-headed. “So, what you mean to tell me is...they now have **full** knowledge of how the Auto-Dusters function, **where** to find our **only** working prototypes, and, should they _somehow_ fail to destroy them, they have the capacity to steal the materials we’ve been using to **produce** them. Correct…?”

Snively stared blankly ahead accepting his fate, as he’d done hundreds of times before. “Yes sir.”

He heard a deep growl and then the screaming started. “I hate that hedgehog! I hate him and every last one of his friends, and **all** the damned vermin running around in Knothole Village! I hate them! I hate them all!”

Snively closed his eyes and sighed deeply, rubbing his temples. “Just keep waiting, Colin. Your time will come. You won’t have to suffer through the hell Julian keeps putting you through. Just...be patient.” Snively wasn’t worried over Robotnik overhearing him at the moment; he could barely hear himself think over his uncle’s maniacal ranting.

* * *

 

Trystan flicked a switch on the dashboard of his bike. The interface turned into a digital clock that read “1100.” He quickly whipped his head around. Nothing but grassy plains as far as he could see, as well as a few rolling hills.

“Ten hours. Ten goddamned hours I’ve been on the move and not even one rest stop.” He sighed and kept on driving. “Thank God nanites don’t need fuel...or breaks.”

He’d left at one in the morning and hadn’t stopped driving since then. He felt hungry, but not as hungry as usual, possibly because he was used to going long periods with little or no food. He figured he’d give it another one or two hours before he stopped to eat something quickly. “Just gotta keep on movin’ in a straight line. Bound to run into civilization eventually. Or the ocean. If I do, that’ll make my life simple, since I ain’t crossin’ that shit today. Not easier, but simple.”

So he kept driving and did eventually stop to snack on some lukewarm canned peas, quietly thanking modern tech for preservatives, and then continued driving for even longer. Eventually, the scenery began to change, although it looked more different than it should have due to the the passage of the sun through the afternoon sky. The land began to make a noticeable dip in altitude every few miles, and trees began popping up in sparsely populated clumps that began to get drawn closer together every dozen miles until Trystan had to switch his bike into hover mode for easier handling as he raced through a dense temperate forest.

“Friggin’ trees.” He tried to weave around a grove of tall maples without crashing his bike (it almost happened twice), and he carried on his way to be stopped by even more trees in thicker groups than he had previously encountered before. “Oh, come the fuck on!”

Forced to abandon the easy mode of transport, Trystan grumbled even more vulgarities as he hopped off his bike and opened the hatch on his keys. The nanites disassembled themselves and returned into their origin point. It was more useful back in the olden days; vehicle theft was virtually nonexistent. He trekked onward by foot, trying not to trip on exposed roots and cut himself on brambles and thorns. Thankfully he could tell the landscape was steadily going downward. The forest had most likely sprung up around a water basin, which explained why the flora was so dense. Trystan kept trying to go in a straight line, but it was difficult.

Eventually he came across a clearing which, conveniently, had a tree stump in the center. Trystan didn’t need to think twice before sitting down to rest, and he breathed a sigh of relief as the sore stress of walking left his joints.

“Thank the mighty powers that be.” He stayed there for a few minutes, possibly more, but as he stretched out backward, he felt his hand slide over something. It was small and felt cold, like metal. Initially mistaking it for some sort of bug, Trystan shot up and whipped his gun out of its holster and immediately set its setting to “kill,” because if it was an insect, it must have been a nasty sumbitch. When he didn’t see any signs of bugs, Trystan leaned in closer to the stump and noticed something. There was a piece of metal sticking out of the stump, nestled up next to the bark of the tree that had once been there, which hid it fairly well. It had a couple rungs welded into it, making it look like some sort of lever or switch. “Huh. Pretty sure that ain’t natural.”

His curiosity piqued, Trystan tried to grapple with the stump, figuring it might be some sort of trapdoor, given the placement of the metal switch on it. He couldn’t get his fingers into a place to pry it open, however, because the leftover bark was raised up over the sides of the stamp, preventing his fingers from getting under the flat surface. “Shit...whoever built this contraption...must have been one genius engineer-Ow!”

Trystan recoiled when he felt a large splinter wedge itself into his hand as he tried to scuffle with the stump to get it open. He rubbed the area and spit on it to try and lubricate the wood and get it to come loose. “...With a cruel streak,” he finished. After a couple more minutes, he got the splinter out and decided to look around for a hidden switch that was no doubt somewhere close by. It took him all of five minutes before he got frustrated and decided to do things his way. At the moment, he didn’t rightly care if the stump was some complicated piece of disguised machinery; all he saw was a way forward.

“Alright you little shit, c’mere.” He bent over the stump and squinted, trying to get a clear view of the hidden switch. Taking out his combat knife, he squeezed the handle and plasma shot out and completed the blade. He brought it close to the lever and carefully touched it with the burning plasma on the knife, and the metal began to superheat and melt. He started cutting and the knife went through the stainless steel as if he had been carving wood. When he’d cut the switch in half, he shoved his knife into the stump and began to pry it upwards enough for him to lift it. It wasn’t easy, but he managed to get it far enough where he could pick it up and toss it aside (after a few more “F-bombs” of course).

Trystan looked into the stump and saw it had been hollowed out into a slide. As he climbed up and straddled his feet on opposite sides of the tree stump he realized he had no idea where it went. He hesitated for only a minute.

“Screw it. Nothing ventured, nothing gained. Geronimo...!”

He hopped up and fell into the slide and he had expected the ride to be anything but physically taxing. He got thrown against the walls, hit his head more times than he could remember, and got thrown around corners and through a couple loops. It definitely wasn’t built to accommodate someone his size, that’s for sure. He had to admit though, it was enjoyable, considering he hadn’t had anything but cheap thrills in New Pacific. He got used to the bumping pretty quickly but before he could so much a smile, he saw a light and before he knew it he was sailing through the air for all of two seconds before landing unceremoniously on his ass somewhere outside again.

“ _Ooo..._ gonna feel that in the morning…” He rubbed his back and slowly got back up to find he was now in some river basin. Ahead of him he could see trees stretching up to the sky, most of them were definitely taller than the cliffs surrounding them; interwoven among the trees he could see...houses.

Houses. Where there were houses, there were people. Where there were people, there was…

“...Civilization.”

Trystan just stood there in the shadows of the cliffs but eventually, he found himself slowly walking forward. He hadn’t even noticed he was doing it at first, but eventually regained control of his body. It still felt surreal, like he was watching a movie in first-person. He’d been chasing something like this for the past day. He’d been hoping for this since he was twelve. He began to chuckle. Then, for the first time in what felt like forever, he laughed. Not a sarcastic, grim chortle. Actual mirth. Joy. He’d done it.

“I...I…” He stuttered but eventually began running toward the village nestled in the trees. “I did it! And all I had to do was solve some stupid puzzle! Oh, my _God,_ was it worth it! _Ah, ha-ha-ha!_ ” He took it all in, drank down the fresh air, the sunlight filtering through the canopy. He started spinning around like a ballerina. The air and euphoria must have made him high after all the stress of trying to survive, but he didn’t care about that at the moment. He was free. He kept twirling around, still giddy, but eventually had to stop after realizing he was getting a bit dizzy. When he did, and brought his gaze down from the treetops and bridges suspended between their trunks, he froze.

He hadn’t fully realized it at the time, but he had walked his way into a wide street in the town and he came face-to-face with, how he put it in his head, “A bitch-load of mobians.”

It didn’t take him long to realize two things: one, they were the ones living here, and two, there were definitely more than a few pairs of eyes staring at him. He didn’t need to know it was mostly a look of abject horror; he was pretty sure he heard one of them drop the glass of water they were holding, and it was only dead silent for a few more seconds before one of them pointed straight at him and screamed.

**“Overlander…!”**

And then all hell broke loose.

Mobians ran screaming, mostly away from him, but it wasn’t long before another disturbance rang out. One of them, a grizzled looking wolf (or something like that, Trystan didn’t really care at the minute) jumped up on a stack of crates and rallied his allies. “What are you all doing!? This thing’s obviously one of Robotnik’s machines, sent to chase us out! Well, we’re not gonna run scared! C’mon, guys, let’s _sic’im!_ ”

Trystan was definitely not ready for a fight. Definitely not right now. He remembered all the explanations and history lessons his dad and Z gave him on the mobians. How the Overlanders hated them. How hundreds on both sides had died a few years prior to The Great Conquering. He was different, though. He hadn’t attacked anyone at all when he had the opportunity, thanks to years of pacifist genes passed down from the old dissenting houses of Megapolis...but they didn’t know that, obviously. But then an idea struck him: if he just kept his cool and tried to talk, he wouldn’t get hurt, and they could all have a laugh over this big misunderstanding. He approached, slowly of course, and said, “Well, thanks for stating the obvious back there, but I don’t know who this Robotnik guy you’re talki-”

He never got the chance to finish after a rooster, emboldened by his comrade, almost floored Trystan with a solid right jab. He stumbled and shook the stars out of his vision, as well as wiping the spit he had inadvertently sent everywhere from almost getting his teeth knocked out. Overlanders don’t allow themselves to be stepped on, pacifist genes or no.

“Oh, if you wanna see Jesus…!”

Trystan came right back with haymaker that caught the bird off-guard, sending him reeling. He was closed in by a couple dozen mobians now. Trystan snorted and put his guard up. He was thanking the heavens that Z and Decker had given him lessons on how to box.

* * *

 

Sonic, Sally, Amy, and Tails had finally finished decrypting the data files on the processing units they had pilfered (Bunnie left to work out, and Antoine had gone back to his quarters). Tails and Rotor shared the same workshop, which Rotor didn’t mind at all. On the contrary, he was glad to have a lab partner, although it would take a lot for him to admit it.

“Alright, Sally, go ahead and insert the server chip into port V-126.” Sally did as Rotor asked and the drives they had began to hum. “I think that worked. Tails, you getting anything?”

Tails was hammering away on a keyboard in front of a monitor. The system they had set up was to connect the monitor to a chain of two computer towers to amplify computing power (any plans Robotnik wrote in digital format were usually heavily encrypted, and took up a lot of space and processing power). Tails was clicking on various symbols and virtual gibberish which slowly revealed more and more legible content. “Getting there.”

Sonic craned his neck, cracked his knuckles, and proceed to lay down on the floor in the most extravagant way possible by _breakdancing_ his way down. He made a few shoulder-spins before he finally stopped. Amy giggled, Sally rolled her eyes, the usual.

Eventually, the sound of Tails hitting the keyboard stopped. He smiled for a minute before it slowly faded and he issued a small, “Uh-oh.”

Sonic didn’t take that too well and shot back up to his feet. “What’s ‘uh-oh’ mean, li’l bro?”

“Well, I’ve got all the data on Robotnik’s new invention decrypted and it’s not good.”

“Aw, come on. I bet’cha it’s nothing we can’t handle.”

“In all honesty, Tails, what’s wrong?” Sally interrupted.

“Well,” Tails began, “Robotnik’s started up a new robot line he’s calling his ‘Auto-Dusters.’ They’re designed to be piloted by remote-control and have several tanks of plant-killing chemicals pre-attached.”

“Does it say what he’s gonna do with’em, Tails?”

Tails gave Sonic a worried look. “No, but my best guess is when he produces enough of them, he’s going to fly them over the Great Forest and release the chemicals stored inside to kill all the plant life.”

“If he does that, Knothole will be clearly on his map and we’ll be at his mercy, if those toxins don’t kill us first.” Sally took out Nicole and plugged in a USB adapter to one of the computer towers. “Tails, I need you to download all the data you’ve got to NICOLE.”

“Sure thing, Aunt Sally.” Within minutes, all the data on the Auto-Dusters was stored in Nicole’s memory. “Now what?”

“Easy Tails. Sonic’s gonna blow all of Robotnik’s planes out from under his nose!”

“Not immediately, of course.” Sally headed for the door. “I’ve got to review the data and come up with a solid plan first.”

“Guess that’s settled, then.” Rotor followed Sally outside with Sonic and Tails behind them. As soon as they were out, they could hear some sort of commotion on the ground below and could definitely see the rest of the Freedom Fighters surrounding someone.

“What in the name of…?”

Sonic kept staring. He didn’t need to think twice before realizing there was a fight going down. “I’ll check it out. Be back in two shakes!” The others didn’t even get that chance to respond before he was off.

* * *

 

In seconds, the street he was on looked like it had held a Black Friday blowout sale, as there were mobians trampling each other to take a swing at the intruder. Trystan was holding his own decently, if only for the fact that he kept throwing two more punches for every time he was hit. It had nothing to do with the fact he was extremely durable; Overlanders were just stubborn like that, and he was no exception.

The situation was looking bleak for him, but he had already accepted it. There were far too many mobians ganged up on him for any chance of winning, but damned if he wasn’t going to sign his autograph on as many of their faces with his fist as he could.

The street was in complete disarray, mobians swinging at him left and right, kiosks getting turned over every couple seconds. Trystan was just barely hanging on, having been tossed around like a ragdoll, but apparently his punches were strong enough to send people airborne for a couple seconds before the crashed back to earth. He noticed a pig charging him and quickly grabbed an apple from a nearby fruit stand. He socked the mobian in his stomach and shoved the apple into his open mouth. To seal the deal, he brought his elbow down on his assailant’s head, causing him to bite so hard he no doubt cracked a tooth. “Main entree served.”

Trystan didn’t even get the chance to bask in the wit of his one-liner when he felt something heavy and really fast bash him from the back. He flew forward and skidded on the stone path on the ground and it took him a couple seconds to reorient himself and stand back up, albeit shakily. It wasn’t helped when whatever hit him nailed him again but good, and he got a look at it as it sped toward him. When he got punched and felt himself land on the ground once more, he was pretty sure it was a hedgehog. “The fuck, hedgehogs can’t move that fast…”

He staggered up again, trying to steady himself, but he’d really been knocked for a loop and crumpled back to the ground. He braced himself on his left arm and turned around. The hedgehog that had been pummeling him, although considering he looked like a streak of light when he was running so it was hard to tell, was running circles around him and bouncing off of everything in sight; no doubt to confuse him. _May as well give up. It was kinda fun, though, despite the several bruises I know I’m gonna find tomorrow morning,_ he thought.

Trystan put his right hand over his face in defense and kept trying to breathe steadily. “Okay, okay, you’re pissed, I get it! I give, I give! Uncle, goddamn!” The hedgehog somehow managed to stop on a dime, much to Trystan’s surprise. The mobain was wearing a vest in the same shade of blue as his fur, and he wore red shorts with grey trim (and some admittedly snazzy hi-tops). He guessed, from the way he was eyeingt him, the hedgehog hadn’t expected Trystan to actually surrender. No true Overlander would, but his blood wasn’t pure. He got back to his feet and the hedgehog kept a close eye on him. Trystan then realized, to his dismay there were a few more mobians running up to them. Another hedgehog, a fox, a chipmunk, and a walrus, no less. “Oh, come on! I told you I surrender, why is there backup coming this way?”

“Look pal, even if that was my backup, I wouldn’t need’em to beat the crap outta you,” Sonic objected.

“Sonic…?”

Trystan guessed, from what he’d overheard from the chipmunk, the hedgehog’s name was Sonic, a coincidence not lost on him. He stared up at the sky and chuckled weakly. “Aw, and the day was going so well, too. Maybe I shouldn’t have gotten out of bed.”

“No kiddin’! What’s the big idea, comin’ in here and trashin’ our camp?”

“Excuse me…”

“Man, I’m just tryin’ to find a good home!” Trystan fired back.

“By kicking us out of ours!?”

The other mobians were gathering to watch the argument unfold. Trystan paid them no mind. “ _Pff,_ as if! I’ve been on the run for the past ten-some hours!”

“Mr. Overlander…”

“Hah! An Overlander on the run? Now there’s a real story,” Sonic mocked him.

“Hey, watch your mouth, needle-nose!” Trystan’s temper was coming back. “You have no idea what I’ve been through!”

“Careful what you say to my boyfriend, you hairless ape!” Amy shouted from the sidelines.

“All of you, **be quiet!** ”

Sonic and Trystan immediately shut their mouths and turned to look at Sally. She had her arms crossed and was staring them both down. Trystan knew she was extremely pissed at this point. (he’d seen it happen with each and every one of Decker’s exes), but he subtly motioned to the gathered throng of onlookers and said “Technically, they started it,” quietly.

“I don’t care who started it,” Sally rubbed her temple, “I’m going to finish it.” She strode up to Trystan with no fear and deadpanned, “First...who are you?”

“Trystan, what’s it to ya?”

Antoine, who had also been watching the fight and subsequent bickering, took offense to Trystan’s brazen introduction. “ _Excusez-vous,_ Overlander!” He was about to walk up to him, but Trystan’s sudden about-face in his direction made him flinch. If it hadn’t been for Sonic snickering at him, he probably wouldn’t have continued. “Y-y-you cannot be speaking to ze princess like zat!”

Sally really wished he hadn’t said anything. “Oh my God, Antoine.” On the other hand, Sonic was trying not to start laughing loudly, although his stifled guffaws made it fairly obvious.

Although Trystan hadn’t recognized anyone in monarchical position of power before, he did know to give respect where it was due. Unaware, of course, that since Robotnik’s takeover, Sally made sure that nobody would address her as “princess” until she could restore her father to the throne, and Antoine, of course, wouldn’t have any of it. He “Ahh”-ed in understanding and quickly though courteously bowed to Sally. “Sorry about that. If we’re being all formal here,” he stood back up and continued theatrically, “I am Trystan Cronus of the House of...somebody, I don’t know. We lost, like, all the historical archive records from Megapolis years and years ago.”

_Lost all the records from Megapolis?_ That implied something Sally hadn’t thought about. “Are you... _not_ from Megapolis, Trystan?”

Trystan smiled proudly. “Nope! Born an’ raised in New Pacific City. Or whatever’s left of it, at this point.”

“New Pacific City.” That name rung a few bells. That meant there were still people left in Switch Nightmare Zone, somehow. That was good. “Yeah, managed to scrape by,” Trystan continued, oblivious to Sally, who was lost in thought. “All seven years after The Great Conquering.”

That turned some heads. “The what now?” Sonic asked.

“The Great Conquering. Don’t laugh, I thought it up when I was twelve.” Long awkward silence, right on schedule.

“Just out of curiosity, Trystan...what _was_ ‘The Great Conquering?’”

Trystan sighed, as if the memories brought him pain. And they did, but thankfully, selective memory had deleted the traumatic parts. “Shit...can’t remember the whole thing in detail, just...looked up in the sky one day and there was this big airship...charged up some laser and just decimated, I mean, _decimated,_ an entire block. There was screaming, crying...definitely blood, God...then some big robots came down-”

“Hold on.”

Trystan stopped mid-sentence to look incredulously at Sally, who had turned to talk to Sonic and Rotor. “See, I told you that city got hit by Robotnik.”

“‘Robotnik' again?’” Trystan muttered. “Seriously, what the fuck is a Robotnik?”

“So?”

“So if we went back and looked around a bit more thoroughly, we’d be able to find other survivors.”

Sonic scoffed. “More Overlanders? Sal, that’s way too risky. They won’t hesitate to pummel us into the ground.”

“Trystan’s from Switch Nightmare Zone and he’s not like them.” Although Trystan couldn’t help but smirk that he had been recognized as an exception, he had to interject.

“Yeah, don’t worry about revisiting New Pacific or Switch Nightmare, or whatever the hell ya’ll call it.” Everyone turned to face him. “The city’s a waste anyway. Whoever ain’t made of steel by now is dead.” Before the Freedom Fighters could keep talking amongst themselves, Trystan carried on, “And another thing...what’s a ‘Robotnik?’”

Either he had said something taboo, blasphemous, or both, because everyone in the vicinity flinched and looked at him worriedly. Everyone except Sonic, who elaborated, “Robuttnik? He’s the ugly hunk’a lard that burned Mobotropolis to the ground and rebuilt it as ‘Robotropolis’ seven years ago. He didn’t even work for it! He just sat his ass on a chair while his SWATbots did all the dirty work for him. In the end, only we made it out, and now we’re gonna win the city back if it takes us forever! That’s why we’re called the Freedom Fighters!”

The gears stopped turning and Trystan heard a _*click*_ sound go off in his head. “So, you’re telling me this...Robotnik guy...essentially took over a kingdom with minimal effort seven years ago?” Sonic nodded. “And I’m guessing he did it in less than a day?” Unanimous nodding all around. That meant only one thing. Robotnik, wherever he was, was the source of all his woes. “Where’s Robotropolis?”

Bunnie, who had been standing close by to Antoine, walked up to Trystan and pointed to the southwest. “Just a hop, skip, an’ a jump thataway.”

He stood there in silence for a couple seconds before he nodded, cracked his knuckles and curtly said, “‘K, thanks, b-r-b.” He had only taken ten steps before Sonic rushed up and stood in his way. “The hell…?”

“Don’t tell me you’re thinkin’ of takin’ on Buttnik on your own, are ya, pal?” Sonic crossed his arms again, but his demeanor had changed. Slightly, but enough. Overlander or not, Trystan was on their side...which was a rarity these days.

“‘Course I am, needles. I really do hate to chat and dash, but I gotta have a talk with this…” he trailed off and snickered. “‘Ro **butt** nik.’”

Sally walked up behind Trystan. “Well, good luck getting to him. NICOLE?”

“Yes, Sally?” her personal computer replied.

“Boot up the holomap of Robotropolis, please.” NICOLE processed Sally’s request for a second before she projected a hologram of the entire city of Robotropolis. “Getting to Robotnik requires that you get into the city and not get nabbed by a Robian.” The hologram started moving on a preset path through the wireframe streets of the city. “If you manage that, you’ll have to get to the old royal district, which is the most densely populated part of the city, SWATbots and Badniks around every corner. Then, you’ll have to make your way up to the highest floor of Robotnik’s headquarters, which he’s lined wall to wall with every trap imaginable.” The hologram went inside the tallest building of Robotropolis and began to work its way up through a maze of hallways and vents. “If you can manage _that,_ you’ll actually have to find an effective way of subduing him.” The hologram stopped in a large circular room and promptly shut off.

Trystan was silent. He understood he would be no match for Robotnik’s defenses alone. There was only one feasible solution…

“In that case...sign me the fuck up.”

His words carried the force of a hurricane, because everyone who heard him nearly fell over and those who hadn’t figured out what he said pretty quickly.

“Y-y-you are wishing to _what?_ ” Antoine stammered. Rotor and Amy frowned; a few other Freedom Fighters began voicing their discontent.

“Who do you think you are?”

“No Overlanders!”

“You and yer kind have done enough damage!”

Sonic could tell everyone would probably riot if not taken care of. He was never good at speeches, but at this point, what did it matter? He interposed himself between Trystan and everyone else and brought his hands up, motioning for everyone to stop. “Whoah, whoah, guys, come on! Why do you care if an Overlander joins us?”

One of the others, a squat little armadillo, shouted, “If it wasn’t for the Overlanders and The Great War they started, we wouldn’t be in this mess!”

“Okay everyone, I get it...but that was then. This is now. And right now, I see someone willing to break the mold you all set for the Overlanders. Besides, we need all the help we can get, don’t we?” Murmurs of agreement. That was a good sign. “C’mon guys, give him a chance, will ya?”

Everyone was silent for a moment before they all nodded begrudgingly and sensing the situation was taken care of (at least for now), they began to disperse, a few sticking around to clean up the mess from the earlier brawl. Trystan was amazed how quickly his situation had turned around. He scoffed. “Guess the next time I’m in trouble, I just gotta admit I’m in the wrong’n then say something outrageous,” he joked. “Anyway, where do I sign? Where’s the paperwork? I know there’s paperwork.”

Sonic shook his head. “Nah, nothin’ like that. All we’re gonna do is bring you to a training room and gauge your strengths and weaknesses. I’ve never had to use it because I’m already good at everything.”

Trystan scoffed. _Cocky sumbitch._ “By the way...your name _is_ Sonic, right?”

“The one and only.”

“Thanks, Sonic. You did me a solid one.” Sonic just winked and raced off to the training chamber.

Trystan was about to follow him when Sally tapped his shoulder. “Hmm? Yeah, kid?”

“Well, Trystan while I appreciate your enthusiasm to join our cause, I think it would be better if I hit you with the formalities right now. There’s only one, so don’t worry. However, it is important.”

“Fire away.”

“Alright, Mr. Cronus-”

“Hey, just call me Trys. Everyone does.”

“About that. Since you’re new here, you’ll be trained as a recruit. That means you won’t be running many missions.” Trystan’s smile faltered a little, but he figured it could be worse. He could be starving on the streets of New Pacific. Revenge could wait. “Furthermore, I expect you to respect orders. Not necessarily obey them. If you have an idea about an alternate method we could take, please speak up. I understand that if we had a hierarchy like the military proper, it would probably just contribute to stress, so we try to keep things...structurally unstructured, I guess you could say.”

Trystan gave her the “ok” symbol and they both headed after Sonic.

* * *

 

The training room was completely bare, and the only noticeable feature was a door that led in and out. He had seen Sally and Rotor boot up a console outside, but strangely enough, the outside was mostly just lockers for gear and the like. Trystan was inside and awaiting further instructions. The room itself was painted with a grid, from the floor, all across the walls and the ceiling.

“Huh. Barren, but quaint, I guess.” He turned to the wall holding the entrance. “Hey, can you two see me from in there?”

“Yep. We’ve got a one-way window that lets us see inside,” Rotor answered.

“Oh. Hi, guys!” He started waving excitedly at the wall. Sally couldn’t help but giggle.

“He looks like a handful, even for an Overlander,” Sonic quipped. He had sat down on a bench next to a row of lockers.

Sally punched a few more buttons. “Well, at least he’s entertaining.” The grid inside the room began to glow brightly.

“Whoah, okay, I’m getting the sinking feeling that you might have been lying to me. This ain’t a gas chamber, is it?” Trystan began spinning his head around, panicking as he watched the grid get brighter.

“Oh, no, it’s just the chamber starting up. We managed to get this thing built a couple years ago using more stolen tech from Robotnik.” Rotor pressed a few more buttons and the glow died down again.

“Oh,” Trystan spun around a few more times before he looked back in the direction of the windows. “So...what’s the plan here?”

“We’re going to put you up against a training dummy to see what you can do,” Sally explained. “Ready?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”

“Alright. Three...two...one...go!”

Across the training chamber, a pillar of green light appeared and promptly faded, leaving behind a humanoid figure made of more of the same green substance. It vaguely resembled a SWATbot, but that was beside the point, because it wasted no time in charging Trystan.

“Ah, shit.” Trystan put up his guard just in time to block the dummy’s punch, but it sent him backward a fair bit. And it stung, too. “If that’s how we’re playin’, then…” He dashed up to the dummy, taking an erratic, zig-zag path to try and confuse it before landing a jab on its torso. He capitalized immediately and launched a barrage of punches as fast as he could before backing away, just in time to see the dummy recover and slam downward, most likely a move that was meant to catch him and drive his face into the ground.

Trystan lunged forward again, but didn’t expect the dummy to recover so quickly, as it brought its torso up and used its momentum to jab its knee into his chest. Trystan spat and flew backward, cursing hard as he skidded to a stop.

Rotor winced. “Ooh, it got him good.”

He never got the chance to stand up, as the dummy was on top of him immediately and began pummeling him. It threw a couple solid punches to his gut, one to the face, and a drop-knee strike to the chest again.

Sally turned away every time she heard the dummy land another solid hit on Trystan. He laid on the ground seeing stars, but quickly shook them aside. The dummy was standing over him and turned around.

Summoning all his remaining strength and Overlander pride, Trystan shot back up and started wailing on the dummy with everything he had. In his beaten and bruised state, he lost momentum after two seconds and the dummy managed to grab his sweater and throw him over its shoulder. It was about to lay into him again, but abruptly, Trystan heard a low humming sound that, when it ended, caused the dummy to disappear. He could tell, however, that it wasn’t really gone, but had actually disassembled itself in an instant. Considering he had seen a machine do that whenever he turned it off, he realized something.

“The whole room’s got nanites in it...Robotnik’s uses nanites…? Why would he need nanites?” he mumbled. He tried to pull himself back up, but he had lost some feeling in his legs and flopped back to the ground. He tried and failed again.

As he pushed himself up off the ground the third time, he heard Sonic ask him, “Need a hand?” He glanced up to see Sonic, Sally, and Rotor standing over him. Trystan said nothing but extended his hand out, which Sonic grabbed and pulled him to his feet.

“Thanks for that.”

“Well, Trystan, I have to admit, I didn’t think you’d get up from that,” Sally commented.

Rotor made a shocked whistling sound. “No kidding. I thought he wouldn’t be able to stand up for a day after that, much less get right back up and throw himself at the dummy.”

“Overlander genes, son.” Trystan smirked.

“In all seriousness, you’ve got potential, but you do need more training.”

He cracked his neck. “Just tell me where to go, kid.”

“Just get to the Fredrick Training Field tomorrow morning at 8:30 am, sharp. It’s in the east corner of the village, you can’t miss it.”

“8:30. Got it,” Trystan said.

They filed out of the training center and back into the open air of Knothole. Rotor and Sally bid Trystan goodbye and Sonic was about to race off as well before he turned around and called, “A’ight, Trys. Catch you later!” and he raced off

Trystan laughed after a moment. “See? This guy gets it!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, you actually read all the way to the end of this stupid thing. I'm impressed, and very happy you did! I'd give you a cookie, but I'm trying to get through college and...I need whatever food I can get, you know how it is.


	4. Shots in the Dark

Year 3236, Day 134:

There was a piercing blaring sound and Trystan shot up and bashed his head on the underside of a workbench. _“Shit!”_ He recoiled, tried to ignore the pain and rubbed his head. He slowly got up off the cot that he had placed there and looked at the clock he had placed the previous night. It read eight-fifteen in the morning. “Ah, double shit!”

Trystan was not prepared to drag himself out of bed. He was completely unprepared, as he hadn’t even finished unpacking and finding a decent place to store his clothes. Reason being he was stuck living in Tails’ workshop. His unexpected arrival meant work had to be started on a new cottage for him to move into, and while it wouldn’t take more than a couple days, it was a bit of an annoyance. He was forced to sleep on a cot; it wasn’t bad, but the thing was pretty raggedy and he hadn’t even slept for more than four hours.

“First day on the job and I’m gonna be late. Perf, absolutely perf, thanks a lot,” he mumbled groggily. He managed to dress himself up in grey sweats and one of Z’s old sleeveless shirts and stumble out the door in under seven minutes and he quickly headed in the direction of the training grounds. The morning dew hadn’t even evaporated yet, although the thick trees overhead and the high cliffs surrounding Knothole prevented a lot of it from being touched by the sun anyway. Even this early in the morning, there were Freedom Fighters mulling about, some of them doing normal things, like reading, jogging, what have you, but there were a few cleaning some spiffy looking swords.

They must have noticed Trystan staring, because they gave him apprehensive looks and kept a sharp eye on him as he passed by. He probably should have expected it though. “ _Pfft._ Paranoid much?” he muttered after he was well out of earshot and kept on walking. With luck, he managed to reach the field at eight-thirty right on the dot. He had to admit, it looked serene, surrounded by tall oaks. There seemed to be an obstacle course somewhere in the back, and he managed to catch a board with the fastest times. The first five, no surprise, belonged to Sonic. He scoffed.

“There you are.”

Trystan turned his attention away from the board to see a few mobians gathered up on the field, one being the wolf that got all the Freedom Fighters to beat him down the previous day. All the others looked like they had been around the block a few times.

Looks like this was going to be the start of training. “Howdy, fellas,” Trystan waved. “So, is this training regimen thing gonna be-”

“Listen, Overlander, just follow what we tell you, okay? We’ve been instructed to give you a workout, so that’s what we’re gonna do.”

“What about actual training?” Trystan responded.

“Comes with experience,” one of them replied. “Might come slowly for you, but it’ll come...maybe. If you don’t get thrown in the Roboticizer.”

Trystan was about to ask what a “Roboticizer” was but they must have anticipated it because they immediately yelled at him to get on his knuckles and start doing pushups. He did twenty. Then they made him do twenty more. As he neared his fortieth, he remembered the words he heard on the streets of New Pacific back in the golden years. It had become so widespread since the city was founded it had become its anthem. “ _Hoc quoque transibit,_ ” he grunted. “This too shall pass.”

“I heard you mumbling! On your back, get ready to do pull-ups!”

He rolled his eyes, but did as he was asked.

Hours later, Trystan remained in the field long after a few cardio workouts, throwing punches at more training dummies. As he put it, “I won’t get tired easily because they can’t fight back.”

The trainers looked at him like he was crazy, but he could tell they really didn’t care. They didn’t like him. Mobians didn’t like Overlanders, it was an intrinsic fact of nature.

_Hell, Overlanders don’t like Overlanders, and that’s why some of them seceded._ He threw a few more punches at the hard leather dummy built in the shape of a SWATbot and looked down the line. There were dozens of these dummies set up, and they only increased in durability. He was at the third out of twelve.

He shook his head and went back to pummeling the dummy. It felt refreshingly cathartic.

He beat up dummies for at least fifteen to twenty minutes before he finally felt tired enough to grab lunch. Trystan was about to go to the nearby river, splash water on his face, and hope some of the sweat would die down, but as he walked out he passed one of the training dummies at the furthest end. It looked no different from the others, and he figured, “Eh, one more punch won’t kill me.”

He jabbed its torso with all his might and from the loud _*clang*_ and the burning sensation in his fist told him his hubris was going to be the death of him one day.

“Shit, oh God- **damnit** , that was solid fucking _steel,_ holy **shit…!** ”

He kept cursing for a few more minutes before finally sucking up the pain and walking back to Knothole proper. He had been told yesterday that there was an outdoor pavilion that was used as an “open-air mess hall,” and by now it was packed.

There were Freedom Fighters all scurrying around, conversing with each other, eating, some still doing weapon checks. Trystan was slightly taller than all of them, which made him really stand out. Still getting checked out a lot. Pretty sure he heard someone mumble, “He’s gonna pull out a homemade bomb or something, I know it.”

Trystan ignored the icy stares and whispered comments (as best he could, at least) and quickly got in the lunch line. Nobody really voiced anything, but he could tell they wanted to get him out as soon as possible, because as soon as the chef behind the counter served him, he quickly shoved some random fruits and vegetables on a plate and handed it to him, whereas everyone else in line actually got something resembling a full meal.

The problem came when he went to get his drink.

“Water, please,” he told the chef. The guy squinted at him and filled up a glass of water, which Trystan was sure he saw him spit in. He furrowed his brow, but quickly acted like he hadn’t seen anything when the chef turned around.

“Here you go, Overlander.”

“Thanks furbait, I didn’t know this stuff came with artificial flavoring,” he responded with the straightest face he could. If he couldn’t punch him for fear of betraying everyone’s trust (what little there was), at least he could just throw some shade and call it even.

Trystan dumped the water on the pavement of the pavilion and ate alone. He then quickly returned to the garage and pulled a notebook out of his knapsack and wrote a header in. He’d used it to keep accurate time and dates during his isolation and it’s the only other thing that helped keep him sane. The first sentence he added was, “Alright, journal, the food’s nothing to write home about, but at least it isn’t canned meat water.”

* * *

 

 

The door swung open with a loud crash and Trystan bolted upright, smashing his head on the underside of the table again. “Jesus fucking Christ, **why?** ”

“Trystan! I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were resting!” Trystan looked up to see Tails wearing goggles and a toolbelt around his waist. Rotor was beside him.

He took a minute before he exhaled deeply. “Ah, forget it, Tails. I’ve been hit harder.”

“Hmph. Switch Nightmare Zone is that bad, huh?”

Trystan stood up and laughed weakly. “Nah, not really, Rotor. I’m just a dumbass who’s tripped on the curb one too many times.”

Rotor walked over to a small heap of scrap metal, put on a welding mask, and began picking up parts and placing them on a workbench with an unenthusiastic “I see” and nothing more.

Tails followed him, but managed to keep up conversation. “If you’re saying you’re a klutz, I don’t think that’s true.”

“I didn’t either,” Trystan rubbed the back of his head. “You throwin’ shade at me, bud?”

“No,” Tails answered with a small smile.

“Hey, Tails, hand me that rusty old gasket over there will you? No, next to that one...yeah, thanks.” Rotor flicked his helmet over his eyes and Tails covered his with the goggles. Trystan was far enough away that the flying sparks wouldn’t affect him.

“What’cha workin on over there?”

“An airplane,” Tails replied with excitement. “I’m even gonna fly it myself!”

“You got a license for that, Tails?” Trystan smirked.

“Hey, I might be young, but I know my way around machines!” he exclaimed indignantly.

Rotor stopped welding other little gizmos to the gasket he was working on and looked over at Trystan. “Considering Tails has the highest IQ for a twelve-year-old I’ve ever seen, I’d say he’s overqualified to fly a plane,” he added.

Trystan shrugged and put up his hands. “Sheesh, I just asked a question.” He remained silent for another fifteen minutes, leaning on a locker and watching Tails and Rotor jointly working on what would eventually become a plane, or so he assumed from what he was told. A small part of him doubted they’d build the thing completely, considering Knothole seemed small to him, and thereby had limited resources.

Tails’ sudden mention of something concerning New Pacific City snapped him out of his train of thought. “Huh? Sorry, didn’t catch that.”

“What was Switch...I mean, New Pacific like, way back then?”

He stretched back, contemplating how to answer this question. In truth, Trystan found his memories growing fuzzy. He felt like it had been ages since he was young enough to remember New Pacific in its prime, but he did know one thing. “...Well, it was always sunny, that’s for sure...except on the days it rained, y’know. I mean, it wasn’t sunny in the sense of weather, but it was sunny because...of the people. You’d be surprised how many of us knew each other by name.” He smiled and laughed with a lighthearted tone, which Tails never expected to hear out of some hard-headed Overlander. “I remember the days Decker and Z would tease me about forgetting groceries after they sent me out to shop,” he trailed off as he looked to the right, recalling his days gone by. “...Never thought I’d take that for granted.”

“Who’s Decker?”

Tails’ question broke Trystan out of his memories once more, and in that instant, he remembered Z and Armin looking at him from the other side of a locked gate in the sewer. It smelled godawful, but he stuck it out because they had nowhere else to go when the airship appeared and started raining hell on New Pacific City.

“Guys...? What are you doing? Where’s Decker...?”

“Don’t know kid, listen we just…” Z ran his hand through his hair and wiped some sweat off his face before continuing, “We’re gonna go look for him, okay? It won’t take very long.”

“What are you gonna do?”

“We’re gonna find him, Armin and I. Kid, just do as I tell you...y’know what, here…” Z removed his hoodie, revealing a sleeveless undershirt underneath it, as well as the revolver and its holster strapped to his waist, and he quickly passed it between the bars of the grate and into Trystan’s shaking hands.

“Z…?”

“Go back to the apartment, kid. There should be a combat knife in my dresser drawer, too, so use it if you need to. We’ll find Decker and we’ll meet you back at home. Then we’re gonna book it out of this joint, okay?” The young Trystan nodded, not really sure if this whole mess was a fever dream or not. “Alright, kid now _go!”_

He stayed rooted in place, still in shock.

“Go, kid, go!”

Z’s words snapped him out of his trance and he turned and bounded back in the direction of home. He could have sworn he heard Z ask Armin, “Ready to get Decker?” to which he replied, “Yes. Or die trying.”

“Trystan, are you okay?”

Trystan snapped to attention and looked around wildly. No Z, Decker, or Armin. He sighed deeply and rubbed his forehead with three of his fingers. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Decker was my older brother, by the way.”

Tails responded with a small “Oh,” and went back to helping Rotor. Trystan, meanwhile, stayed inside for the rest of the day, only coming out to grab a single apple for dinner.

* * *

 

 

Year 3236, Day 137:

“Alright you three, we need to break into one of Robotnik’s power plants and destroy these three generators.” Rotor pointed to a blueprint of a factory somewhere in Robotropolis, with three rooms circled in red.

Sonic chuckled to himself. “Easy-peasy lemon squeezy. What I wanna know is why?”

“Sally-girl said it’s pro’lly the best way to keep ol’ Botnik distracted fer awhile. ‘Bout long enough fer us t’do a number on his Dustah planes,” Bunnie explained.

“Ugh.” He slapped his forehead. “Sal and her precautions. She knows the chances of us getting captured are slim.”

Amy hopped off the table she had been sitting on. “Sonic, they might be slim, but that doesn’t mean they won’t happen! Princess Sally doesn’t want to take that chance. And if _you_ got caught…”

“ _Pssht._ ” Sonic waved his hand and rolled his eyes mockingly. “I’m too quick to get caught.”

“Anyway,” Rotor cut in, “Get ready to leave in five minutes, meet at the south exit. We good?”

There was agreement all around and everyone dispersed, walking out of the meeting room over the training center. Sonic (and Amy by extension) followed Bunnie out. “Wanna grab a quick bite before we head out?”

“Ah’m flattered sugah-hog, but y’all know chili dogs don’t do mah hips no favors.” She shot him a subtle, but wry, smile.

“Heh. Ya say that like it’s a bad thing.”

Sonic’s response earned him a vicious ear-hold by Amy, and after he was done crying out, she gave him “Don’t get ahead of yourself, Sonic,” in a hushed voice.

He staggered back to his feet and said, “I-it was a **joke** , Amy, c’mon!” Sonic quickly continued on down the stairs and out the locker room to the exit to grab a chili dog while Bunnie casually made for the rendezvous point. However, as she passed through the lockers, she managed to catch sight of something going down in the training room itself.

That something was Trystan, decked out in nothing but sweatpants and wrist-wraps, duking it out with another nanite-bot. His hair was reflecting light like a freshly-minted coin, no doubt from sweating, and he seemed to be bruised in a couple places on his face, arms and chest. “Well, shoot, the ‘bots ain’t that aggressive, now. Only way he could be banged up that bad would be if he was fightin’em over a long time…” She watched the training dummy take a swing at Trystan, nailing him in the jaw. He responded by staggering backward and immediately running in to beat on the dummy some more, punching it multiple times in the chest. This little dance continued for a few minutes, Trystan constantly getting bashed in all over his body, until he finally managed to sock the dummy in its featureless head and sent it sprawled out across the floor, after which it promptly disintegrated.

She saw Trystan look at where it had been, panting heavily, before wiping his forehead and making for the door. He opened it and walked over to a locker, seemingly much too tired to notice Bunnie, despite how she was in plain sight in a brightly-lit room. He managed to open up his locker on the far wall before he must have caught her in his peripheral vision, did a double take, and jumped ten feet in the air. “Oh, shit!”

He promptly fell back to earth and landed on his rear, and Bunnie audibly gasped. “Whoah now, Trystan, it’s jus’ me! Y’all right?”

Trystan muttered a couple four-letter-words under his breath and stood back up, brushing his arms and the seat of his pants off. “Don’t worry ‘bout it, I’m okay. And just call me Trys.”

Bunnie crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow. “Mistah Trys, what’re ya doin’ in there?”

“Training,” he answered with a smirk.

“Ah mean aside’a that.”

“Seriously, that’s all I’ve been doing for the past couple days.”

Bunnie pointed at him. “Well, what’s with yer bruises?”

“I’m bruised?” Trystan answered with mild shock. Bunnie nodded. “Oh. Well, uh, it’s part of my training regimen, actually.”

“Trys, Ah know ya been workin’ hard, but Ah thought the courses we had in place didn’t do no damage, bare minamum at least,” Bunnie said as she adjusted her hat.

Trystan was silent for a minute, but he eventually chuckled and sat back down on the bench in front of the lockers. “That’s, eh, because it’s my own training regimen.”

“Y’all’re doin’ yer own trainin’ courses?” Bunnie asked with a subtle tone of disbelief. Trystan shrugged in response. “What’s yer plan fer it?”

“I’ve spent the last two days coming here when I can and fighting training dummies ‘til I can’t fight no more. I’m actually aiming to beat at least five of them in record time.” He paused before adding, “I’m still only at two, but my best time is...seventeen minutes and forty-one seconds.”

Bunnie’s eyes widened for a second before she chuckled and shook her head. “Shoot Trys, y’all’re doin’ it all wrong. Maybe ‘ol Bunnie Rabbot can help whip ya inta shape!”

Trystan tried to keep himself steady after recoiling from her brash statement. “Wow, I appreciate your enthusiasm, but I don’t wanna drag you into anything unnecessary…”

“Nonsense, Trys, folla’ me!” Bunnie immediately brought him back up and quickly made for the outside, with Trystan slowly trailing behind after mumbling, “Ah, what the hell? My body isn’t sore enough yet anyways.”

She walked him over to the training field, a few minutes walk away from the training center itself, and once they made it to the open arena, Trystan asked, “So, what’re you gonna do now that you’ve dragged me out here, Bunnie?”

Bunnie turned to face him, and had a big grin on her face. “Ah’m gonna learn y’all some To’dai!”

“Toe-what now?”

“To’dai. ‘S an old, old, martial art that mah grandpaw taught me when Ah was young. Never thought Ah’d act’lly use it, but here we are.” Bunnie went on to explain that Toudai was meant to be an offensive combat style that used dodges coupled with power strikes. “‘Course, Ah never learned all the ins and outs, so Ah’ve had to impravise most’a it.”

“Improvise?” Trystan chuckled. “Shit, this’ll be easy. I’ve been doin’ improv since I learned how to talk!”

“Good! Now think fast!” Bunnie immediately rushed toward him and Trystan had no choice and let his muscles and instinct guide him as he brought his arms up to defend against a punch to his face and jumped backward. However, he assumed Bunnie was anticipating this move, because she sidestepped to his right and spun around to hit him in the back of the neck with a backhand strike, but she stopped herself. He realized that if she _had_ hit him, the force of her hand (the robotic one, no less) coupled with his weak dodge backward, and _right into_ said arm _,_ probably would have put a dent in his skull.

They both stood there, right next to each other, for a long while until Trystan finally managed to say, “That’s um...very effective, I wager,” over the lump in his throat.

Bunnie grinned. “Ah thought y’all said y’did impravisin’ since ya knew how ta yammer off that purdy l’il mouth a’yours.”

“Never said I was _good_ at it,” Trystan said with a laugh.

* * *

 

 

Sonic skidded to a halt at the training field as Tails landed next to him. He could see Trystan sparring with Bunnie, just like Tails told him after he asked him to scout around for her. “Thanks, bud,” he said as he rustled the fur on Tails’ head. Tails giggled and flew off again, waving goodbye to Sonic.

Trystan seemed to be doing some strange dodging exercises, but Sonic eventually realized she was teaching him some of the martial arts techniques she knew. He remained on the sidelines of the arena, content to watch them fight. Trystan tried his best to defend against Bunnie running circles around him and swatting him with her steel arm and legs (because she’d probably kill him if she hit him full-force). His best wasn’t really cutting it though, as he was getting hit everywhere and he seemed to be relying on blocking too much, and was getting pushed around like an ice cube on stainless steel. They went on for a few minutes before Bunnie said, “Alright, Trys, yer startin’ t’look plumb-tuckered out.”

Trystan, who had just jumped backward expecting another blow, bent over and gasped for breath before he looked back up, smiling. “Hallelujah.” He took another minute to get back up to his full height and rolled his shoulder, which responded with a loud cracking sound. “Oof. We’ll be doing this again, I assume?”

“Yep. Tomorrow mornin’, meet me back here.”

“Uh, I would, but that’s when a few of the…” he coughed, to make a point, “ _others_ come in and try to break my back. At least until eleven.”

Bunnie walked up to him and winked. “Y’all just leave that to me, Trys.”

“So...you two havin’ fun?” Sonic walked forward and both Trystan and Bunnie turned to face him in shock.

“Sonic…! H-how long were you-”

“Doesn’t matter, Trys. What matters is you’ve been distracting Bunnie from the mission we set out to do earlier,” he said with disappointment on his face.

“...Oh mah stars, Ah completely forgot ‘bout that! How long’s it been, sugah-hog?”

“We had to go ourselves, and it was going great, believe me…up until the SWAT-heads caught Amy…”

Bunnie’s eyes went wide and Trystan’s expression went from “tired” to “abject fear” in two seconds. Sonic quickly rescinded his statement before either of them started to panic completely. “Nah, just kiddin’. Everything went fine with just Amy, Rotor, and I. We got in, busted some heads, shut everything down, and got out. Buttnik’s probably tyin’ his cape in knots over it right about now!”

So far, Trystan only knew two things about Amy: she was hopelessly head-over-heels in love with Sonic, and while she was friendly, she did not take some of his jokes lightly. He laughed dryly and lowered his head. “Boy, Amy’s gonna throw a _fit_ when I tell her the fat honkin’ lie you just told to make us pale-faced.”

“...You wouldn’t.”

Trystan glanced at Bunnie and then back at Sonic before he pretended to make a dash for Knothole proper, and Sonic took the bait. Trystan went back and jolted himself forward in a fake-out which Sonic fell for, running after the direction Trystan was looking before realizing he’d been tricked, then stopped a yard away from both of them, and glared at Trystan.

...Who did nothing but grin and flash the peace sign.


	5. Champs and Chumps

 

Trystan was still glaring down at the open page of his notebook back in the workshop. He had been sitting in there the whole day, doing jack shit, and it was closing in on four in the evening. He’d gone out and sparred with Bunnie, who told the few other militia members that had trained him once to just let her handle it. Despite taking a lot out of him, he found training with her very enjoyable, as he considered her a very engaging teacher. Upon realizing the play on words in his thought, he chuckled to himself and quickly went back to boring holes in his book, silently willing words to appear there. He had to find _something_ to write about today, besides the obvious training.

The only other thing that came to him was from when he was wandering around getting familiar with Knothole’s layout, and he heard a civvie mutter “Hope he gets lost in Robotropolis.” To make a long story short, there were some increasingly harsher words exchanged and Sally actually had to come in and break things up.

He really didn’t want to be overly negative in this book, but still jotted down, _Some mobians will just be jerks, I guess._

And then as if fate itself sensed his growing boredom, Rotor threw the workshop door wide open, which caused Trystan to jump a little. “Hey, Trystan, how do you feel about going on your first mission?”

“‘Bout goddamned time,” he responded, standing up from the raggedy mattress on the floor.

“Good. We’re all in the meeting rooms over the training center.”

Rotor left the door open and disappeared. Trystan, on the other hand, retrieved his duffel bag that he had been carrying when he left New Pacific, containing only his clothes now, since he had access to a reliable source of food and water. He reached a separate compartment from the main one and opened it up, taking out his knife, revolver, and car keys.

* * *

 

 

“...and from there, we circle around this block to the next set of Auto Dusters and take them out. Anyone need a recap?”

“So, get in, get out, trash everything in sight,” Sonic summarized.

“And _don’t_ get caught,” Sally added.

Sonic chuckled, scratching the back of his head in a cocky manner. “What I am wondering,” Antoine inquired, “eez ‘ow we will be destroying zee Adieu Dusters so quietly.”

Sonic was trying (and failing) not to snicker at Antoine. “That’s ‘Auto’ Dusters, Ant.”

“Zat is what I said…‘Adieu’ Dusters.” Sonic kept chuckling and shook his head.

Sally strode around the table in the middle of the room. “Putting the main production plant out of commission will help speed that process along, Antoine.”

Amy tapped Bunnie on the shoulder and whispered, “Hey, Bunnie, how’s the Overlander doing?”

“Trystan? He’s doin’ right fine, why d’y’all ask?”

“I don’t know if this is a good idea.”

Bunnie gave her a subtle look of disbelief. “Ah think his trainin’ll pull ‘im through. Why? Don’t tell me yer worried ‘bout him, sugah.”

“No, I’m worried about what he’s capable of doing now that you’re his teacher…”

“Aw, c’mon now. Ah think he’s a good kid. Trystan ain’t gonna do nothing drastic, sugah,” Bunnie affirmed.

“What if he-”

“Dies? I don’t think Trystan will get into much trouble,” Sally interrupted. “If he _really_ has survived seven years in Switch Nightmare Zone, I think he’ll adapt.” She paused and looked at Rotor with a slightly confused expression. “Speaking of which, shouldn’t he be here by now?”

“He was lagging behind a little bit. I saw him grab something from a bag just before I left him, but he should be here any second.”

Then Trystan himself opened the doors of the office, clad in his classic hoodie and sweats, but now he was packing a belt with his three gadgets attached: his revolver, his knife, and his car keys. He looked fairly confident as he strode in as well.

“Alright boys...what’re we fuckin’ up today?” he expressed by smacking his fists together.

“...Well, he _looks_ ready, that’s for sure,” Sally muttered.

“A knife and a gun I can understand, but what’s the little metal stick for?” Sonic asked.

Trystan smirked and touched the side of his keys, which chirped in response. “Those are my car keys, needles. Anyhoo, sorry I’m late and all, now what’s the skinny?”

Sally gave him the basic rundown: enter a factory via the Robotropolis sewer system. While one team destroys the assembly line that refines the ores to build the hulls of the Auto Dusters, a separate team gets into another warehouse to destroy every prototype inside. Trystan noted it sounded “hella fun,” and pretty soon, the group consisting of Trystan, Amy, Sonic, Tails, Sally, Antoine, and Bunnie had all left Knothole and were crawling through an open sewage pipe next to a small stream spewing out oily sludge, something Antoine made a verbal note of in the form of a disgusted comment.

They continued on for a few miles, and Tails peeking up through a sewage grate after they began hearing the sounds of machinery above their heads confirmed they were close. The only problem with traveling by underground was that it was dark.

“I can’t see shit.” Trystan had barely finished his thought when he had to cover his eyes as Tails activated and held up a flashlight, illuminating the pipes around them. The T-section they were in was caked in poisonous-looking waste. After he took a good long look at it all, he thought, _At least it isn’t shit-sewage, I guess._

Sally brought out Nicole and said, “Nicole, display the map of Robotropolis’ downtown district, please.”

“Of course,” she replied, and quickly beamed out a holomap. Sally issued the command to highlight the fastest route to their target factory, and when a trail of red appeared on the lime-green map, she said “Alright, we’re splitting into teams to get this done. Sonic, Bunnie, Tails, and Amy, go to the left and work on destroying Robotnik’s prototypes. Antoine, Trystan, and myself will go straight ahead and work on shutting down his production process.”

Amy made a small cheer and flung her arms around Sonic, who gently pushed her off. “Alright then, guys. See ya in two shakes!” He wasted no time in picking Amy back up and racing away, with Tails hot on their heels.

Trystan watched them go and as Bunnie passed him, she gestured for everyone to follow her. “Let’s get walkin’ y’all.”

“Walk? Why should we walk...” Trystan said as he clicked the activation button on his keys. The hatch opened and his hoverbike materialized right in the middle of the sewage pipe, casting a cyan glow from the maglev. This caused everyone to jump, Antoine’s reaction being the most extreme as he yelled _“Mon Dieu!”_ and cowered behind Sally.

“...When I can just do this?”

“W-w-w-where did you get _zat_ from?”

Trystan laughed and boarded his vehicle. “Nanites, my friend. Don’t worry, it still functions just like any motorbike would. Hop on, people, and let’s get this done!” Although initially hesitant, the other three Freedom Fighters got on as well (with poor Antoine trying not to fall off the back), and they proceeded forward. Trystan had to keep the bike in its standard hovering mode in order to ensure there was enough room for all four of them. And the dead silence of the area wasn’t making things any less awkward.

“I...never knew you had this,” Sally said after awhile.

“Everybody in New Pacific had one. Well, they weren’t all motorbikes, but you get my drift.”

“And y’all said these were nanites, too? Like the ones we got back home?” Bunnie questioned.

Trystan nodded. He heard Sally say “Might have to get Rotor and Tails to look at this tech…” and told her that there was no way either of them would touch his stuff without him being present to watch.

* * *

 

 

Sonic, Amy, and Tails had made it to Robotnik’s warehouse in record time; Sonic really didn’t need a map to know when he was under it. He had just developed a knack for either finding things, or stumbling into them as he pushed forward, which was usually the most likely option. They had lifted the sewer grate up and were in the back of the factory. Tails quickly scanned the wall. “Darn it. No vents. I wish we could just blow a hole in the wall without practically screaming ‘Hey, Robotnik, we’re over here.’”

“Then why worry and just get it over with?” Sonic immediately wound himself up into a spin dash and charged forward, causing the wall in front of them to explode open. After the noise died down and the smoke cleared, the warehouse was opened up and it showed two opposite rows of Auto Dusters (not to mention numerous SWATbots roaming the place, and who were now closing in on the intruders). Sonic whistled. “Wow. They look so clean and shiny.” He grinned maliciously. “Would be a shame if someone _trashed’em._ ”

After he raced forward, Amy and Tails followed him, with a passing, “He’s so brave,” from Amy.

“I dunno, Amy. You know Robotnik likes to lay traps.”

“Even if there is one in here Tails, he can get out of it...even if we weren’t with him. He _is_ Sonic, after all!” She quickly pulled out her Piko-Piko Hammer and sideswiped a SWATbot coming in from the left, sending the robot back into the wall.

Sonic was wasting no time in obliterating every SWATbot that was running at him. He spin dashed into an entire group of SWATbots, sending them reeling and breaking them all open, slowing down as he approached the opposite end of the storage space and he began revving himself up again. Sonic built his speed up to maximum and went straight for the nearest Auto-Duster…

Which he bounced off of, leaving only a dent in the hull. When he landed and heard no explosion, he glanced up to see how much damage he did and grimaced. “Crap. Couldn’t make this easy, could ya, lardball? Amy!”

Amy, who had been pulverizing a few other SWAT units with her hammer, immediately stopped and looked over at him. Sonic stood where he was with his arms crossed, and he pointed to the dent he just made with his thumb. Then he crouched down, assuming a position like an Olympic runner.

Amy paused for a second before she grinned and nodded, and pulled out her hammer. Sonic charged up another spin dash again and rushed forward, meeting Amy’s hammer as she swung it as hard as possible and sent him careening backward into the hull of the machine. That managed to do a number on it, and Sonic kept using his momentum to bounce back so Amy could send him into the Duster again. It only took five shots to total the thing, and pretty soon, the entire warehouse was in shambles.

* * *

 

 

Sally slowly lifted up a sewer grate and made a quick look around before throwing the cover off and jumping out, followed by Trystan, Bunnie and Antoine.

“Gimme your hand, Ant.”

After Trystan lifted Antoine out, he brushed the dust off his coat, crossed his arms and said, “Do not even _start_ with me, Overlander. Sonic eez bad enough.”

Trystan just smirked and kept walking. “So, where is this place, Sally?”

“A couple blocks ahead. Everything looks clear for now,” she explained as she scanned the area for any SWATbots or Robians. “Follow me, everyone.”

Unknown to them, high up on the metallic spires of the once pristine buildings surrounding them, there were figures clad in red and gold steel and kevlar, their helmets adorned with a line of red fibers running back to front. One of them had been staring down from his perch, surveying the ground with a pair of binoculars. He managed, despite the thick smog in the air, to find the group of Freedom Fighters below them. He paused for only a second.

“Verifex Thoms, sir!”

Another soldier who had been on the other side of the building stood up and made his way over to the first soldier. “Martialis…?”

“Down there, look sir. You won’t believe it.” The commanding officer, now surrounded by the other six people in the squadron, peered through the binoculars, and could clearly see the group of mobians for below them. He pressed a button on his helmet, and the earpiece inside crackled to life.

“What is it, soldier?” came an unnaturally calm voice from the other end.

“One of my men spotted a group of mobians on the streets below us.”

“Damn it, I told all of you this in mission briefing, do **not** engage them or anything else. We are not picking fights, we are doing reconnaissance.”

“Understood, sir, but you’re not gonna believe this. There’s another Overlander with them.” The Verifex thought he heard a very faint but sharp intake of breath from the man on the other side, but he went silent for a minute.

“...Give me video confirmation.”

“Ave.” The commander pressed another button on his helmet and his visor lit up blue. The outline of a broad man cloaked in shadow and sitting in some kind of grand hall appeared on it, and the commander brought up the binoculars to his eyes.

The grim-looking man in the video feed could see them all. A lean chipmunk, a half-mechanical rabbit, a well-dressed coyote, but most importantly, a young, slim Overlander with black hair and a blue hoodie.

No response came from the other man for awhile, which prompted the Verifex to ask, “...Um...sir?”

“I’ve just sent a message to team Zeta Iota. They will be delivering a care package to your twenty in precisely zero-thirty minutes,” he said. “...I don’t think I need to say that it’s not for you, unfortunately.”

“We understand, sir. We’ll be looking out for it.”

“Good. Is that all, lancers?”

“Ave.”

“Good. Over and out.”

* * *

 

The main door of the observation deck opened up to let Dr. Robotnik barely squeeze through, as the doors were only almost completely open. Snively had been checking cameras on his dashboard, but he quickly turned around to salute the doctor. “Good evening, Your Greatness…”

“Snively, I was right in the middle of torturing some members of a Freedom Fighter group that had been brought in from West Robotropolis. This had better be **good.** ” Robotnik sat down in his mechanized throne, awaiting Snively’s next words, dearly hoping that a Freedom Fighter from the Great Forest had committed suicide or gone insane for some reason. It would be a joy to hear their agonized screams.

“Bad news out of the way first, sir…” He heard Robotnik growl like a caged animal and tried not to gulp too loudly. Snively flicked a switch and brought up a video feed of Sonic, Amy, and Tails destroying the last Auto Duster in Robotnik’s warehouse. “...Sonic got to the first warehouse of Auto Dusters before we could move them.” Robotnik sighed and massaged his forehead with his fingers. “We did save three, sir.”

“Snively…”

“Yes, sir?”

Robotnik’s voice began to increase steadily. “I believe I recalled ordering you to get those Auto Dusters moved _immediately_ after the Freedom Fighters **stole my** **data on them!** ” He had crossed the floor and was now holding Snively by the collar.

“I did, sir!” he squeaked, “The SWATbots of section kappa-twelve said they’d get right to it after they were finished building the copper statue of you defeating the Freedom Fighters!”

“You should know better than to rely on the SWATbots, Snively!” Robotnik dropped him unceremoniously. “The only thing they seem to be good for these days is **cannon fodder!** ”

Snively coughed and picked himself back up shakily. He said nothing else until he flicked the switch again and the camera view changed to the catwalks above one of Robotnik’s industrial refineries. “Apparently, Sonic and his two furry little friends aren’t the only ones here, Your Rotundness.” There were three figures Robotnik recognized scurrying around. One was Princess Sally, Bunnie, who had just barely managed to escape his clutches a couple years prior, and Sally’s incompetent bodyguard. Robotnik had decided to roboticize him last because he would provide at least several good laughs before Robotnik ran him through the machine.

But there was someone he didn’t recognize. “What’s this...? Another Overlander?”

“Yes, sir. I can only assume he came from the city to the west that you conquered as well.” Snively kept staring at the screen, because on the inside, he was surprisingly intrigued by how an Overlander managed to gain the trust of their sworn enemies. Robotnik, however, watched the Overlander and kept darting his eyes between him and the other Freedom Fighters with him. His expression slowly shifted from intrigue to morbid glee. Snively noticed this change and stammered, “S...sir...?”

“Yes, Snively…” Robotnik clasped his hands and began tapping his fingers against each other. “I do believe this changes...everything.”

* * *

 

The ore made several stops along the assembly line: first, a laser cut up the solid rock that housed whatever minerals were inside, then it went through some sort of machine that could extract the major pockets of ore deposits, and finally the whole thing was sent through back-to-back chambers that seemed to refine and temper the metal.

“ _Monsieur_ Overlander! Geet to my location, on zee double!”

Trystan rolled his eyes and quickly fell in step behind Antoine, who was obviously enjoying having someone low on the totem pole he could order around. Sally had split them up even further, and although Trystan didn’t agree with it, he said nothing. He silently kicked himself for forgetting that she told him he had every right to speak up and suggest an alternative, but that ship had sailed already. He’d been paired with Antoine, which wasn’t terrible, as his hilarious accent made up for his bloated ego.

“Oh, shit!”

Trystan’s sudden exclamation over the whirring of machinery made Antoine scream and dive behind a couple metal crates, shaking uncontrollably. Trystan couldn’t help but laugh, and that made him pretty steamed.

“W-w-w-what eez in zee _wrong_ with your head?”

“Nothin’, Frenchy, why d’ya ask? Don’t tell me you were scared, now?”

Antoine stuttered, half in disbelief, half still in fear. “ _M-m-moi?_ I think not! I was, erm...tuning my vocal range. Eet eez, ‘ow do you say…’warming up?’”

Trystan chuckled. “Whatever you say, Antoine.”

They kept walking, trying to find the secondary control room for the operations of the refinement plant, as Sally had informed them earlier that both control rooms had to be destroyed. She had also told them where to go, but the catwalks interwoven between the stations of the assembly line were maze-like.

“I swear to God we’ve been here before.”

“ _Non,_ Overlander, we ‘ave never circled back around upon ourselves even once.”

Trystan huffed. “You said that five minutes ago, after we turned three corners consecutively. I’m taking point.” He shoved Antoine aside and jumped up to grab a rung on a walkway above him, pulling out his gun and knife when he pulled himself up. He pointed at Antoine, deadpanned “Stay here,” and dashed off.

Antoine wiped his forehead. “ _Fantastique!_ At zee very least, I do not have him peeking over my shoulder.” He sat down against a wall, unaware that there was a security camera trained directly on him.

The camera switched over to Trystan, who had just entered the secondary control room wand was puzzling over the dashboard. Dr. Robotnik was rubbing his hands together enough to burn off the palm of the glove on his right hand. “Let’s see what your priorities are, my little _friend_.”

Trystan was studying the mishmash of buttons on the control panel that he managed to find a couple minutes earlier, after walking in a straight line from when he left Antoine. Every button and switch had no indication of what function they performed, and there were coolant cells everywhere; to make it worse, Sally wasn’t inside the primary control room just across from him to relay directions. He had no choice but to wait, so he slumped to the floor, leaning against the control module itself.

He had been lost in thought, mainly those of home and how to complete the current mission to get himself a better reputation with the Freedom Fighters when he heard someone scream. The high pitch told him it was Antoine, and he immediately shot up to his feet and was going to bolt in the direction he came when he remembered he still had to deal with the control panel somehow.

He swung his gaze between it and the archway back to the factory. “...Goddamnit...”

He was stuck in this back-and-forth between the mission and the thought of an innocent in danger (even if it _was_ Antoine). If he stayed, he’d have to find a faster way to sabotage the controls, but if he left, it would be harder to take the factory down, if not impossible once the alarms inevitably kicked in. Trystan didn’t have to linger very long to make his choice, though, and in his hurried mindset, it was the only course of action.

Trystan pulled out his knife and revolver and he pumped the gun’s power up a notch by using the switch on its grip. At the cost of two bullets in its eighteen-round magazine, he put a couple holes in the control module and blew out every coolant cell he saw. Most of the machinery in the room exploded, fizzled, and otherwise shorted out. He dashed out of the room without checking anything else and muttered, “Fuck my life.”

* * *

 

 

Sally and Bunnie were still making their way to the primary control room (and only had a couple more steps to go) when they both heard Antoine’s scream.

“Oh mah stars, that sounded like Antoine!”

Upon hearing and registering what was happening, Sally picked up her pace. “Bunnie, you go after him, I’ll wait for Trystan to-”

She stopped short after she entered the main control room and could clearly see the secondary module in flames and malfunctioning. Sally muttered “Oh, my God,” under her breath and turned right around and followed Bunnie. “Change of plans, Bunnie. I’ll follow you!”

* * *

 

Trystan eventually caught up to where he heard Antoine’s screams coming from. As luck would have it, he could see him down a couple floors and a dozen or so feet away, being carted off by one of those nasty looking metal motherfuckers. _SWATbots,_ he thought he heard them being called. It was holding him by the collar.

“Do not be reprogramming me, _s-s-s-s-s'il vous plaît!_ I w-w-w-would look _hideux_ i-in m-m-metal!”

Trystan pulled out his revolver and judged he had about four charges, which meant he had two shots to nail this guy. One shot…

It fell short by a mile and hit the floor.

“Shit.” He aimed again and fired. The SWATbot had heard him by now over the whirring machinery and it would have been hilarious to see it crumple to the ground soon after, if the bullet hadn’t blasted a now-leaking steam valve. The SWATbot started running and went through an automatic door. Trystan vaulted over the handrailing and got his way down to the ground floor quickly, racing after the both of them. He quickly flicked his wrist and the chamber of his gun detached from the barrel, letting off steam and pouring out some viscous, white-blue liquid. He flicked it again and the chamber snapped back into place.

He got through the door and to his surprise, found an empty tertiary control room with only one large monitor on the far wall, and Antoine in the middle, sobbing, but otherwise he looked no worse for wear. Trystan put his gun down and walked up to him.

“Jesus, Frenchy, you didn’t even put up a fight!” Trystan’s voice seemed to get him to calm down, even if only slightly. “You could have at least struggled _a little_. Ah, well, worst’s behind us now. You okay?”

Antoine stood up straight and puffed out his chest. He sniffled a little before speaking. “I have nevair been more fine in my entire life, _merci,_ ” he enunciated.

Trystan sighed with a reluctant smile, but started to look around when he realized there was something missing. “Hey, where’d the walking heap of spare parts go?”

To answer this question, multiple panels on the walls swung around, revealing ten SWATbots at the ready. Poor Antoine screamed, “Are you being serious with _moi?_ I am nearing my wit’s den!”

Trystan brought his gun back up. “Antoine, go and find the girls. And that’s ‘wit’s end,’ by the way.” He ran right back out the door he was brought in before Trystan could check to see if he was actually gone. When he turned around, however, the SWATbots remained motionless for a moment before bringing their arms up to cross over their chests. Trystan had no idea what this meant, but eventually decided on it being a good exercise for hitting targets.

“Hail-”

They never got to finish whatever statement was being read out. Either that, or it was drowned out over the sound of gunfire and pretty soon, all ten SWATbots had bullet holes through various parts of their bodies.

“That was odd,” Trystan whispered after the noise died down. He put his gun away and was about to walk out when he saw light appear on the back wall, coming from the giant monitor. He turned slowly to see the face of a bald man with an orange moustache and black eyes, grinning from ear to ear. “Who…”

“Greetings, my young kinsman,” came the stranger’s malice-tinted voice. “I am Doctor Julian Robotnik.”

* * *

 

Antoine had been going full speed through the factory, although he hadn’t been looking where he was going, considering he was still plenty scared out of his wits. When he looked in front of him after making sure he wasn’t being chased by the SWATbot that had no doubt obliterated Trystan by now, he had no time to stop as he saw Bunnie round a corner in front of him and they both collided.

There were a couple grunts of pain, and Sally found them both soon after. “Antoine! What happened?”

Antoine, thinking quickly, pushed himself to his feet and assisted Bunnie as well before dusting his coat off and pulling the best story he could think of out his ass. “Ah, mon princess! I have come to warn you of zee SWATbots zat appeared only moments before I found you!” he stated with a theatrical hand wave.

“The SWATbots found us...?” She tensed up and sighed. “Alright, I think our mission’s been compromised. Hopefully, Sonic’s had better luck...wait, where’s Trystan?”

“Ah, _oui!_ Well, I followed a SWATbot into a nearby room after zee Overlander volunteered to scout ahead for us both, and, erm, found a room...with **more** of zem! So, I called zee Overlander in to help myself investigate, but zen, zey all activated! I offered to stay and fend zem off, but zee Overlander forced me out before zee doors locked behind him-”

“Well, shoot, we gotta save him!” Bunnie interrupted. She charged off in the direction Antoine came and Sally kept on her tail. Antoine himself, on the other hand, repeated, “No, no, no, eet eez too dangerous!” as he followed them, trying to get them both to run _away_ from whatever slaughter-fest was happening in the other room.

* * *

 

 

“So _you’re_ the ‘Robotnik’ asswipe everyone’s been tellin’ me about...I can see why they’re scared of you, that outfit is garbage.” Trystan took a couple steps forward, trying to repress his anxieties.

Robotnik ignored his previous remark. “I am...quite surprised to see one of my own species after all these years. My assistant, Snively, tells me you might have come from a city to the west...is this true?”

“Why do you need to know?”

Robotnik chuckled after a brief pause. “I like to know my enemies in and out. Or would-be enemies, in this case.”

Trystan cocked an eyebrow. “What do you mean ‘would-be enemies?’ Cut the crap with me. What are you playing at?”

“I like to think of myself as a sensible soul,” Robotnik articulated has he tapped his fingertips together. “I’ll be willing to make a little deal, a trade of sorts. You seem to be good friends with those... _Freedom Fighters._ ” He clenched his teeth as he said the name. “If you’ll be kind enough to tell me where Knothole Village is-”

“Nope, sorry. Not interested in committin’ treason today.” Trystan swung his arm down dramatically and turned to walk away. Robotnik tensed, but didn’t give up that easily, though. He had to make Trystan trust him, even if for only a couple minutes.

“...Very well. Perhaps if you’re willing to give up and leave all this behind,” he emphasized, “I’ll grant you one personal wish. Whatever you want.”

Trystan came to a slow stop. “...Anything at all?” he inquired.

“Anything at all.” Robotnik’s unnaturally calm smile told Trystan this was a bad idea, and he was aware that this was a huge breach of trust. _But still,_ he thought, _Robotnik’s caused a lot of shit. He’s gotta know something._

He stared at Robotnik was a gaze almost as cold as the doctor’s. “Tell me where my family is...and you won’t hear from me again.” Almost immediately, he could feel regret seeping into his shoes.

“Family…? Hmm…” Robotnik tapped a touch screen on his control panel, from wherever he was at the time, and it created a kind of holographic screen, which he began to scroll through. Trystan couldn’t see anything, which meant all the information was held on the front. He was still tense. “...Perhaps a name or two could **jog** my memory. I can’t seem to find anyone like you from Robotropolis or...wherever it was you came from, New Peace, whatever it was…”

“Fuck you, doc. Mom told me to never give names to strangers.” _There. Status redeemed._

“Pity. Then I guess you’ll never get closure.”

_Fuck._

Robotnik was waiting. He must have been able to read him like a book. He needed answers; that’s what he left New Pacific for. He swallowed hard.

“...Armin, Decker, and Z.” _Can’t take every value of mine-_

“No last name, Overlander…?”

He swallowed even harder and stalled again. “...Cronus.” _God...damnit._

Robotnik went back to the computers, typed something into what he guessed was a search function. They waited.

To Trystan’s amazement, one block of information came up, and a sly grin grew on Robotnik’s face.

“Well, Overlander, the only name I could pull up was-”

He was interrupted by a clinking sound and sliding metal, and Trystan whipped around to see Sally, Antoine, and Bunnie standing, horrified, in the doorway. None of them even got to call his name, asking what he was doing with Robotnik on the screen, before he pulled out his gun and spun around to blast the monitor apart.

As soon as Robotnik lost a visual on the Freedom Fighters, he brought up a separate panel on the main screen of his control room. A map of Robotropolis flashed to life, and there was a glowing dot somewhere in the southwest district. He tapped it and pressed another button on the control panel. “Attention all SWATbots! Get to District A-19 and surround the main factory there! There are Freedom Fighters inside, so do what you want with them...except Princess Sally! Bring her to me alive!”

Trystan’s adrenaline was pumping at full power. He felt a lot of emotions running through his body, but the top three were embarrassment, fear, and regret. Normally, he’d laugh it off, but this time he was ready to take what would be given to him with a mask of stone, because he knew his teammates were assuming the worst. Boy, was he right.

“Trystan, what the hell were you **doing?** ”

“It…” He nearly choked on his own Adam’s apple. “It was a temporary moment of weakness, Sally.”

Her eyes went wild. “What did you **tell** him?”

Antoine looked back from taking a peek outside the door. “Mon princess…”

“ **Trystan!** ”

“Sally-girl, y’all need t’ask him later!” Bunnie pointed to the outside. “‘Twan jus’ noticed we’re surrounded by SWATbots!”

Everyone went silent, and the only sounds they could hear came from some commotion outside. Sally quickly ran out the door, motioning for everyone to follow her, and they did so (Trystan remained in the back to keep the heat off of him). They continued to weave through the walkways and make their way upward.

They were stopped momentarily by a couple SWATbots coming in through the skylights, but Bunnie and Sally managed to kick them off the catwalk they were on and they broke on the hard concrete floor below. Soon, though, there were SWATbots pouring into the ground floor entrances. Trystan took out his gun and began slinging bullets at the gathered mass of robots, and he managed to down a few, but on the whole they were gaining. He really didn’t want to talk, but nobody else was telling him anything, so…

“Can I get a plan of action? Are we going back to the primary control room to do this place in quickly or-”

“We’re compromised, Cronus!”

_Jesus, she is_ **_mad_ ** _._ In all fairness, he could understand that sentiment. _I’d be mad too, but at least I didn’t give any locations._ Sally then told everyone to get to the roof, which they accomplished by breaking a window and jumping out to one of the lower ceilings of the building, which was about three stories above the ground. They all took a leap of faith, although Trystan had to carry Antoine on his back as they fell. A parade of SWATbots then rounded the corner at full speed, but luckily, the group had started moving early enough to lose them on a couple more corners and make it back to the sewer entrance they originally used.

After they had sealed the grate back on top of it, Sally had a few choice words for Trystan. “What the hell were you doing back there, Trystan?” she barked and crossed her arms.

“Antoine got his ass kidnapped and dragged into another room, so I went after him!” he replied incredulously. Antoine shrunk away from them both slightly, but Sally wasn’t paying any attention to him.

“You know what I mean! For your sake, I hope you didn’t tell him anything important… **especially** the location of Knothole.”

Trystan brought his head down and flipped his hood off, taking a deep breath, trying to keep a straight face. “I talked him out of divulging locations…” Her expression shifted to relief. “Instead, Robotnik promised me anything I wanted in exchange for skipping town.”

“Whad’ja tell ‘im, Trys?” Bunnie asked. She was expecting the worst.

“I asked him for information on where my family is.” He inhaled deeply again and grimaced. “And goddamnit, I was so close to getting at least _something,_ ” he muttered.

Sally sighed as well. “Well, I’m glad you went after Antoine, but there’s no way we can destroy the refinement plant now. Without sabotaging both the primary and secondary control modules, Robotnik can just replace the parts that are broken, and the only way this mission could still be a success is if the factory spontaneously exploded.”

Trystan pulled up his car keys and booted up the hoverbike without another word, and they retraced their path back down the sewer pipe and met up with Sonic and the others, who had been waiting for awhile. Although the other three had initially looked pleased, those expressions quickly disappeared when they saw how glum everyone else look, Sonic being the most worried (although he never showed it). When he asked Sally, she walked him slightly further ahead of everyone else and told him she’d explain once they got back to Knothole.

It was almost eight at night when everyone got back into the safe confines of Knothole Village. There were lights strung up around the walkways between the trees and on the small huts, and they were already powered on, thanks to the Power Ring generator developed by Sonic’s uncle Charles (better known as Chuck) as a clean alternative energy source, and hidden underneath the great tree in the center of the village, taller and older than any other in the forest.

The group of Freedom Fighters that had been sent out were greeted by Rotor as they strode back into the village proper (tiredly so for Bunnie, Sally, Antoine, and Trystan). “So...how’d everything go, you guys?”

“We turned the Dusters into dust, but I get the feeling Sal’s team didn’t do so hot,” Sonic explained.

Rotor turned to her. “Uh, oh. What happened?”

Sally, Bunnie, and Antoine glanced at Trystan, who did likewise to all of them, and then quickly turned his head away in shame. “We were compromised, everyone. Had some trouble with-”

“Zee Overlander not only drew Robotneek’s ire, but we found him contorting with him as well,” Antoine stated.

Sonic looked over at Trystan with his arms still folded. “D’ya mean ‘consorting?’ What the hell were you talkin’ to lard-ball for?”

“I didn’t want to have anything to do with him, Sonic. I only ended up like that because Antoine here got his pretty-boy behind poached by a SWATbot.” He leaned up against the trunk of a small tree.

“After _vous_ instructed _moi_ to stay in one place!”

Trystan froze and dropped his smile. “Oh, of course he brings that up now,” he muttered bitterly. There was another awkward silence, made apparent by some crickets calling in the distance, and everyone was staring at Trystan. “...I’ll go pack my stuff…”

“Hold it.” Trystan stopped and looked back over his shoulder. “I can’t be too hard on you since nobody really explained how Robotnik ticks, as far as I know,” Sally explained, even though there was still frustration in her voice. “And according to you, you only divulged personal information, which, while _not_ a good idea, it’s not threatening our home.”

“Hey, I know this isn’t the most opportune time,” Rotor interrupted, “but speaking of homes, I suppose I should tell you we finished Trystan’s cabin.”

“No kiddin’” Sonic chuckled. “Talk about killing the mood, Rotor.” It helped a little, as everyone got a small giggle out of it.

“Actually, since you mentioned it...I was gonna think of a fitting punishment later, but you’re sleeping in the workshop for one more night, Trystan.”

He grinned and saluted weakly. “Yes ma’am.”


	6. Small Step for Man

 “Snively, I want a full damage report,” Robotnik droned coldly as he sat back into his chair.

Snively did as his uncle asked, punching buttons on his control panel. A few holo-charts popped up, a sine wave graph, and some statistics, and eventually Snively reported, “Damages to production plant A-19 are extensive, but are only structural. All that’s needed is to replace the coolant cells that were destroyed, and the factory should be running at optimal production rates within a day, Your Excellency.”

“Get the metal **vermin** to work then,” Robotnik commanded as he stood back up and began to exit the main control room. “I want you to increase the security around the factory in case the Freedom Fighters decide to show their ugly little faces again. You can handle that... _right,_ Snively?”

“Yes, sir.”

* * *

 

 

He had been _so_ close to beating insomnia. The last couple days had been great for him, getting a sleep schedule going.

Trystan sighed into the still air. _And then I just had to go and fuck it up._

He’d been lying awake for two and a half hours now, encroaching on eleven-thirty, constantly thinking about how badly he’d betrayed everyone’s trust. No, it wasn’t a big thing. No, it wasn’t as bad as God-only-knows it could have been, but he felt so...dirty.

Then, he remembered what Sally had said earlier, how the only way for the factory to be sabotaged at the time was spontaneous explosion. The wheels started turning.

“No, no, no...that’s a suicide mission,” he said to himself.

_So you wanna stew in your own shame, then? Fine by me._ Trystan couldn’t argue with that cutting little voice. He sighed and sat up, groping for his duffel bag in the dark, and pulled it off the table next to him. He retrieved his gun, knife, and car keys again before putting his clothes back on, gearing up, and peeking outside the shed. No activity in the immediate area.

Trystan slunk out and kept looking over his shoulder every five seconds, to make sure no one had seen him. It wasn’t for the fact that people would think he looked suspicious outside alone; plenty of other civvies in Knothole seemed to stay up past nightfall (usually the nocturnal ones) but he knew some would just walk around. No, he was just worried someone might see him armed to the teeth and he’d have to pull a convincing story out of his ass or he’d have to pretend he was coming back from training and return to the garage. Thankfully, for him at least, he got through the normally busy areas without any trouble, using the high trees and the shadows they cast to his advantage.

He exited Knothole through a secret ladder hidden in the limestone cliff, the same one they used to go on the previous mission, and as soon as he was out, he ran out of the thick area of trees and brought his bike into existence. “Well,” he droned, “it’s either redeem myself or die trying.”

He jumped on his bike and sped off in the direction of Robotropolis.

* * *

 

 

He was speeding past street corners with robians posted at some of them (which, seeing as how no one explained their situation to him before, he assumed they were like the old citizens of New Pacific City) on his bike, trying to figure out which path he had walked only a few hours before. He felt like a vigilante, and he was. He knew he could never talk about this, if nobody found out about it. At this point, he wasn’t undertaking this “black ops” mission to gain redemption in the Freedom Fighters’ eyes. He was doing this for himself, to finish his mission. And if his insomnia wasn’t going to let him sleep, he was going to take full advantage of it.

Trystan stopped in an alleyway, deactivated his bike, and scurried up a ladder network to the top of some building coated in steel to get a better look at the surrounding area. It took him a couple minutes, but when he squinted, he could see the faint outline of another building in the distance that seemed to be catching fire in different places and smoking at the same time. “My best bet, I suppose.” He was about to turn and retrace his steps, but he heard something heavy and metallic land behind him, causing him to yelp and whip around with his gun drawn.

To his relief, it was just a big, metal box that must’ve fallen from somewhere above him. Trystan looked up to try and see anything out of place. _Nothin’ unusual. Huh._

The crate itself looked highly futuristic and definitely had at least several anti-hacking measures in place, he was sure. There was a dividing line going vertically down the middle of it, too.

“What is it, though…?” He wondered aloud. To answer his query, the crate extended an antenna that spawned a plate from it that unfolded clockwise into some sort of radar dish and it beamed out a light yellow cross matrix onto Trystan, who jumped back and stood completely still.

“Data acquired,” came a soft, robotic voice. “Hello, Trystan Cronus. These are for you.”

“What the hell…? How does it know my name?” This question never got an answer, as the line down the middle of the box split open and revealed several things placed on a small platform inside: a strange wrist-mounted launcher of some kind, several syringes of sky-blue liquid, and a handwritten note. Arbitrarily, Trystan read the note first, which said:

 

_Mr. Cronus,_

_You don’t know us, but we’ve been watching you…_

 

Trystan heard some rubble being scuffed by someone’s boot and he whipped around. The rest of the roof was barren. He kept staring for a minute before going back to the note.

 

_You don’t know us, but we’ve been watching you. Who I am is not important right now, because, believe me, we will meet face-to-face soon enough. All you need to know is I pulled some resources out of our army to help you._

_I have included several vials of nanomorphine. If you’re in a bind, take one of them out and apply to the cubital fossa, the elbow bridge, of either arm. The nanites in the liquid will knit you back up in a jiffy, as long as it isn’t damage to the central nervous system. Don’t worry, it’s non addictive, I promise. The other device you see is a wrist-mounted grenade launcher. It runs on nanites, so it never runs out of ammo and has several settings for grenade types available, and on top of all that, the grenades are small and disk-shaped, which allows for easy placement of traps. Just press the button with DET on it when you want to make some things explode._

_If your friends ask you where you found these things, tell them you found this crate somewhere close by wherever you came from, and show them this message._

_Pugnant, magis mori,_

_The Praetorius_

 

Under the signature of this “Praetorius,” there was a sigil. It was a red circle with a line running through the center, diagonally from the left, as well as some sort of crescent shape attached to the left of the circle as well. Trystan kept reading the note over, trying to decipher if this was some sort of trick, but every time he looked back up, the crate was still there.

He folded the note and approached the supply drop, picking up the nanomorphine, which was conveniently stored in a plexiglass case, and the grenade launcher, sliding it over his left arm.

“Alright, then,” he said as a smirk crept across his face. “Let’s party.”

* * *

 

 

Trystan had driven all the way over to the building, although taking back alleys was necessary as he found the main streets crawling with SWATbots and robains. Something big was going down, he could tell, and it definitely involved the production plant. He managed to get himself into an alley that allowed him to get a good view of the building, and saw robians hefting machines and parts inside, presided over by SWATbots.

“Shit. Well, this makes my job a lot harder than it needs to be,” he whispered. He looked at his grenade launcher, and took notice of the small screen on its upside. There was a switch just below it, which he clicked, and saw the screen buzz to life. On it was a picture of a small metal disk that read “Fragmentation” on the bottom. “Standard grenade,” he murmured. He tapped the screen and the image switched to make the metallic luster look more slick. The caption read “Semtex.”

“Bingo.” Trystan grinned. It was time to light the place up. All he had to do was find a suitable catalyst to create a mushroom cloud that could be seen from the next country over. It only took him two seconds to think of the conflagration the coolant cells caused when he shot them. “Oh, hell **yes.”**

He remained in the alley to try and scope things out. He deduced that the SWATbots rotated guard positions every two minutes or so, and upon the next rotation, he rushed toward the factory, and quickly ran up a wall to latch onto an open window, and he clambered his way inside without a second thought. The inside of the factory was mostly the same since he had been here a few hours ago, except more things were on fire.

Especially the two control rooms, which he could clearly see from this angle. There were more robians inside trying to subdue the flames, and therefore, more SWATbots crawling around the ground floor. Thankfully, he had been able to fall behind a stack of metal crates when he entered.

Trystan looked up at, what he assumed, was the secondary control module. From the ground floor, he guessed there were dozens of robians inside it, carting mechanical parts up there. He couldn’t see what they were from this angle, and decided the best way to figure out what they were doing was to actually get up there.

He was about to move out of cover until he heard metallic footsteps approaching and two SWATbots passed him. Strangest thing was, they seemed to be talking to each other. “You understand what happened here, correct?” one of them said in a monotone voice.

“If I heard our supreme overlord correctly, he intercepted the Freedom Fighters’ attack on this plant.”

“Do you know how?”

They had gone further up ahead, enough that their robotic voices began fading out. Trystan decided to eavesdrop on the rest of the conversation as best he could, and he swiftly dove between his current cover and a stack of inert pylons. “I was give the information that the doctor managed to pinpoint their location via contacting their newest member.”

“The doctor’s kinsman?” The SWATbot seemed confident enough with that statement that Trystan didn’t know why it even asked. He came out from behind the pylons and crept forward, staying in the harsh shadows casted by the furnaces of the factory.

“Affirmative. He was stupid enough to trust the good doctor.” The two SWATbots then started to laugh in the dullest, least-inflected voice he had ever heard.

“We’ll see who’s stupid very soon, you faceless oversized toaster.”

One of the SWATbots turned around and Trystan quickly stuck to the side of a stack of barrels and got low. “Did you hear something?”

_...Shit._

Trystan waited with bated breath, and his right hand hovered over his gun holster, fingers twitching periodically. Soon, the other SWATbot continued walking ahead. “I’m certain it was nothing. We must continue to watch out for the Freedom Fighters’ inevitable return.”

The two units walked forward and Trystan, who now had his gun drawn and ready, crept forward as well and took a sharp left and got onto the catwalks over the rest of the factory. “Yeah, you two keep a sharp eye out.” He took a few more steps across the walkway before muttering “Dumb fucking machines.”

He made sure to cross a few different paths so as to take an indirect route to the secondary control room, as the main path was crowded by robains carrying up what he could now see as spare parts. He did, however, catch one of them hauling up what looked like an undamaged coolant cell. _Oooh...there we go. I wonder if…_

Upon reaching a pathway just above the secondary control room, he could see inside, and there were a few dozen of new coolant cells stockpiled and ready to be replaced. In fact, some already had.

“...Jackpot.” Trystan brought his grenade launcher up, and took his time aiming directly at the base of the pile. He made sure his frags were selected before he clicked a button on the handle and a small disk shot out, almost invisible, and landed right in front of the pile. The robains crowded around the place didn’t even seem to notice. “Alright. Time to get those furnaces,” he muttered as he retraced his steps back down the catwalks. Amazingly, no one saw him, thank the powers that be, and he made it to the ground level.

Sticking to the shadows again, he inched along walls and got to a row of furnaces, which he quickly stuck with a semtex grenade, and he placed one on the boilers’ steam gauges for good measure. With that out of the way, he was ready to leave, considering he had probably spent about two hours on a black ops mission and was running out of night that would keep him covered. He started sneaking out of the furnaces’ section of the factory and almost rounded a corner before he heard more metallic footsteps...but this time, he knew how to handle it.

“Perimeter scan...clear,” came another SWATbot voice.

Trystan immediately spun out from around the corner, took aim, and fired. The shot echoed over the sound of machinery getting restarted, and the SWATbot crumpled after its dome head got a hole bored into it. “You wish.”

There was only a moment where the natural sound of the factory took over before the whooping of an alarm blared over it all, but Trystan was already making a break for a secondary exit. He ran up to the door, shot the handle for good measure, and kicked it open, not even pausing to take out his keys. He simply turned the car on while running, and the nanites formed into his bike alongside him. Amidst a sudden flurry of lasers, he jumped onto his vehicle and cranked the acceleration as high as it could go, and sped off down a nearby street. Behind him he could only hear the automated message of “Alert! Alert! Freedom Fighter has been spotted at Factory A-19. Lethal force is authorized for apprehension!”

“Bitch, if you want to say ‘shoot-to-kill’ then just fucking say it.” A second later, Trystan felt a searing pain on the side of his lower abdomen as a laser cut across it, shredding his sweatshirt. “Me and my big mouth,” he spluttered. It took him a second to remember he had healing items.

He fumbled around in the bag he took with him, and while he did so, he got a quick glance behind him. He basically had a firing squad of SWATbots trained on him, and they were still shooting. He swerved every so often to try and throw them off, although his bike got nailed a couple times. He was praying it wouldn’t choke on him yet. Trystan eventually got ahold of a nanomorphine vial, although the fact that he was driving and cutting corners, coupled with being shot at, it was hard for him to administer it to his arm.

But he somehow pulled it off, and the relief was immediate. He put the vial back into his bag (because, hey, maybe there was some way to replicate it. And he was kind of a pack rat) and felt where he had been shot; there was only a scar, although agitating it did make it burn.

“Holy fuck me!” he exclaimed as another laser bolt flew past his temple. Turning around again, he now saw the firing squad had become a firing battalion. He only had one hope left. Even if this didn’t throw them off, he could at least go out with a bang.

He looked for the button on his gauntlet that had “DET” embossed on it, and he pressed it with all his fury. He didn’t get a good look behind him, but he could see, even from this distance, that the buildings around him were vibrating, and the deafening, hollow _BOOM,_ that echoed through the air was something he felt in his groin.

On top of all that, he heard a lot of explosions and metal grinding on metal. Since this happened at the same time the laser fire died down, he was pretty sure that meant a lot, if not all, the robots behind him had been thrown off by the atomic blast and had crashed and burned. He quickly took a hard right, driving up a ramp and onto an old, decaying highway. This also gave him a good look at where he came from, and all he could see was a tall pillar of smoke highlighted by dull red light.

The shock took a minute to settle in, but when it did, his adrenaline forced him to laugh madly as he transformed his hoverbike into its speed mode and he raced away.

* * *

 

 

“Snively! What the hell is going on? What was that explosion!?”

“I’m checking, sir, I’m checking!” Snively punched the console as fast as he could. Graphs and power meters filled the viewscreen of the throne room, with some sections of A-19 dwindling rapidly.

“What is going **on,** Snively!?” Robotnik demanded, hopping up and down in his chair. Snively took a good look at all the data he had in front of him, and froze in fear. **“Snively!”**

“There was a, erm...a break-in at plant A-19…”

Robotnik stopped jumping around abruptly, and his right eye twitched. “What...happened...Snively…?”

Snively didn’t want to talk at all, but either he stayed quiet, or Robotnik would throttle him until he got answers. “S-s-someone...snuck into the plant, sir…” Robotnik’s eye began twitching again. “Th-th-th-they must have planted...explosives on the new c-c-coolant cells and the furnaces…”

“...And the factory, Snively?” Robotnik’s voice was deep, but still calm. It only lasted until Snively pulled up a camera-drone’s view of a now smoking crater filled with the charred remains of SWATbots and half-finished Auto-Duster parts.

**_“Snively…!”_ **

Robotnik stood up in a flash and gripped his nephew’s uniform by the collar. **“I specifically recall telling you to get more troops to guard the factory grounds!”**

“...I...I did, sir!” Snively choked and tried to keep talking as his uncle slowly asphyxiated him. “I brought in as many SWATbots in the district as I could…!”

“Then allow me to repeat myself when I say, ‘They’re more useless than using an ice pack in the frozen tundra!’” The rest of his ranting could easily be heard for miles around the main citadel of Robotropolis.

* * *

 

 

Trystan, meanwhile, had driven like mad through the countryside leading back into the Great Forest, and when it got too dense, he jumped off and ran until he got to one of the many stumps that hid slides into Knothole. He collapsed on top of it and chugged down air like it was holy water, and eventually picked himself up and nearly threw himself down the slide.

The slide spat him out into a waiting hay pile to cushion his landing, and he remained there for several minutes, half of him wanting to make sure no one saw him, half of him still high on adrenaline. He forced himself to his feet after what felt like years and limped his way back to Tails’ workshop. Either he was lucky, or no one had decided to question why he looked so torn up as he flung the door of the darkened workshop open and keeled over on his cot.

The last thing he said before he passed out was, “I really shouldn’t’ve done that. I’m gonna piss _so_ many people off.”

* * *

 

 

Two people sat to the left and right of the broad man in his grand hall, gone dark after years of abandonment, until the Filii Rubrum had moved in, of course. His helmet held a plume of deep violet hair, mounted transversely across his head, and the helmet itself covered his face entirely. His armor was composed of black and gold kevlar. The two attendants, however, wore no helms, instead only robes that had been left behind from the previous occupants of the city and restored to at least a semblance of their former glory. One was male, dark-skinned, and a noticeable amount of facial hair was growing in on his chin. The other was female, of petite, slender build, and rather sunken eyes. They had been debating over pictures, taken years before, of a city with sleek gold and alabaster buildings.

“All I know is, this is throwing our plans off-course, Praetorius,” said the woman.

“I understand your concerns, Cincius Blesse, but you must understand that we need to make connections with them.”

“Tossing our planned siege of the city out in favor of silently supporting a guerilla operation that isn’t even that well-equipped to begin with isn’t exactly the best course of action, sir.”

The Praetorius faced the other Cincius, and though his expression was unreadable under his mask, he spoke with conviction oozing out of his words. “Cincius Emex, they’re on our side. That’s all that matters. On my orders, the Filii Rubrum will do everything they can to support this cell of ‘Freedom Fighters.’”

“By doing what, Praetorius? Sending them more supplies? We only have enough for our soldiers! You realize that sending that care package, you’ve not only made our army that much weaker, but we’ve been hearing about outbreaks of insubordination among the ranks of the Martialii!”

“Emex, the reason the soldiers are acting up is just because of the supply drop itself, not who it went to,” Blesse countered.

“We will support them with manpower, Cincius. When the time comes, of course. However, I wish to send over some of our earpieces,” the Praetorius answered coolly.

Emex folded his arms. “Earpieces are fine, they’re a dime a dozen. But soldiers? That’ll be _very_ short-lived once one of the Martialii decide to pop a cap into one of the little furballs”

“You know they won’t do that. Almost everyone here has the New Pacific strain of genes; they’ll tolerate the mobians at worst.”

“And I can give _two_ examples of Overlanders from New Pacific who always _hated_ mobians. I’m one of them…” Blesse had been looking at Emex with terror in her eyes, and had gestured across her throat in an attempt to get him to be quiet. She was too late.

The Praetorius stood up in a flash and stomped over to where Cincius Emex was sitting. He slammed his fists down on his side of the semicircular table and leaned over slowly.

“ **Dont. Say. His. Name.** ”

Emex put his arms up, but his neutral expression remained unchanged. “I’m just trying to illustrate a point, sir.”

The Praetorius scowled at him under his visor for only a couple minutes more before standing erect again, returning to his chair at the head of the table, and picking up a gavel from a special compartment in his seat. “Even so, if one Overlander can gain the trust of the Freedom Fighters, so can the Filii Rubrum. We’ll wait longer to make sure the kid’s relationship with them doesn’t go south,” he then glanced back at Cincius Emex, “though I doubt it’ll happen. Meeting adjourned!”

The Praetorius bashed his gavel on the table twice and the two Cincii of the unofficial council left for the outside. Before Cincius Blesse left, she turned to her superior. “While I can see the advantages of this plan, I still advise you to be careful, sir.”

“Of course.” Blesse nodded in affirmation and then exited, leaving the Praetorius alone with his thoughts. He reclined in his chair and swiveled it around to face the back of the hall. There was a flag hanging over a broken, old, cracked throne. It had been turned around and held the emblem of the Filii Rubrum on it now, but the other side held the crest of the sun being raised over the horizon, in the center of a golden circle. “Stay safe, kid,” he sighed. “And above all, stay alive.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy shit, I'm not dead


	7. Onward and Upward

Year 3236, Day 140:

Sunlight had gently kissed Knothole’s trees and among all the ones who got up bright and early, Sonic was keeping himself busy by grabbing breakfast and then running around or a couple hours. He had a few hours to kill before he went out on another mission, and it sure beat standing still. He had opted to go to the obstacle course to try and set a new record, and on the way there, he noticed Bunnie loitering in the training field.

“Hey, Bunnie!” His voice contrasted against the quiet atmosphere, and she turned around, greeting him with a small smile. “What’s up with you?”

“Nuthin’ much, sugah-hog,” she replied, “although Ah am a mite confused.”

“What for?”

“Ah ain’t seen hide ‘r hare a’Trystan at all since yesterday,” she mumbled, crossing her arms. “Us’lly, he’s here t’start trainin’ by now.”

“Ahh, the guy just overslept, I bet. I’ll get him for ya.” Before she could even say thank you, or add on to the subject, he was gone and at the workshop in a half a second. He rapped on the door. “Hey, Trys! You up?” There was no response, so he knocked harder. “Yo! Trystan!”

After complete silence, Sonic groaned and slung the door open. Trystan must have been near dead tired, because he could see him still on his cot halfway under the table, breathing steadily. Sonic walked up to him and kicked him with his shoe. This, of course, did manage to wake him up abruptly, and Trystan sat up and bashed his head on the underside of the table.

He clutched his head, suppressing his early-morning rage after a minute. “I guess this is my life now.”

“Mornin’, sleeping beauty,” Sonic snickered at him. Trystan’s eyes had noticeable bags under them, though they weren’t glaring, and he was still in his normal clothes. “Nice hairdo. The whole ‘bed-head’ look suits you really well.”

Trystan glared at him and sighed in defeat. “It’s too early to deal with your shit, Sonic. Leave your number and I’ll get back to you at eleven.”

Sonic only looked at his wrist, reading an imaginary watch. “Uh, dude? It’s like, twelve in the afternoon.”

Trystan’s eyes went wide with disbelief for a second before he accepted complete nihilism and cursed, “Fuck it. It may as well be. The universe doesn’t mind laughing at me anyway.”

“...You okay, Trys?” Sonic was growing increasingly worried over the Overlander’s mental health, but he just waved Sonic off. His only note on the subject was “I had a rough night.”

He got up off the mat, stretched, heard his spine crack, muttered, “Jesus Christ,” and trudged out of the workshop, rubbing his eyes. “Hey, when di’jya cut up your sweatshirt? I don’t remember that being there,” he asked pointing to the tear where Trystan had been shot the night before.

Trystan stopped for a second before grumbling, “Must’a nicked it on a bush last night out walking,” pretending there was no scar visible under the tear. He ignored the rest of Sonic’s prying for answers; he was too tired to explain the gifts he received last night, too. That was best saved for later.

* * *

 

Two hours down the drain after martial arts training and now he was busy busting heads in the VR room. He managed to fight three in a row before he forced himself to take a break. He walked out and sat down on a bench, and simply clasped his hands over his mouth, letting his tired mind wander. He almost fell asleep, until he heard a pair of shoes clicking against the floor. For some reason, when he opened his eyes, Sonic was walking up to him.

He stopped right next to Trystan, and they said nothing to each other through the awkward silence. “So, uh...Bunnie told me she thought somethin’ was up when she was training you. I did too, wanted to find out.”

Trystan’s stare remained unbroken, but eventually, he chuckled. “No subtlety for you, eh?” Sonic rubbed his upper lip with his index finger and flashed his winning smile. “I told you,” Trystan deadpanned again, “rough night. Couldn’t sleep.”

“This ain’t about the whole...Robotnik fiasco yesterday, is it?”

“Take a wild fuckin’ guess,” Trystan shot back. There was silence again for a long time.

“Well, hey,” Sonic began, “every champ started out as a chump, y’know.”

Trystan snapped his head around fast enough that it could have broken his neck. He didn’t know what to react to: the fact that Sonic had implied he was going to get better from this mistake, or the fact he explicitly stated he’d fucked up something hard. He eventually slumped forward, holding his chin in his hands, covering his mouth again. He let out a heavily muffled, “Gee, thanks. I feel _worlds_ better now.”

Sonic sighed. This guy was a volatile mix of passion for freedom and crippling depression. “That’s not what I meant, dude.” Trystan didn’t move an inch, and made no motion to respond either. “I’m just sayin’...”

Sonic placed his hand on Trystan’s shoulder. “Ya got some things to learn. You’ll get the hang of it, pal.”

Trystan, although he did feel slightly better now, only nodded his head. Sonic stood up and started to walk away, but stopped short and turned around. “Oh, one more thing...your new pad is up in the trees. Number...two forty-three, I think, if no one told ya already.” He winked and then ran out of the training center.

Trystan watched him go, and reflected for a minute before changing to his normal clothes and opting to walk out and explore.

* * *

 

Sonic wasted no time in rushing over to the central hub of Knothole after he left Trystan alone, especially after sensing his stomach was now less full than it had been a moment ago. He ducked between residents and arrived at his favorite chili dog stand (and the only chili dog stand in Knothole) in seconds. He ordered two, and the chef, knowing his customers, brought them out in record time. Sonic scarfed one down, but before he could bite into the second, he heard Sally’s voice call, “Sonic, you got a minute before you go running off again?”

He looked over at Sally walking toward him, paused for a second with the chili dog inches away from his face, but quickly stuffed it into his mouth and put his arm on the counter. “Yeth…?” came his muffled reply.

Sally only groaned and asked, “Well, first, do you enjoy grossing me out on purpose?”

Sonic swallowed and flashed another cheeky grin. “Maybe a li’l bit.”

She sighed. “And second, have you talked to Trystan recently, by chance?”

“Yup,” he affirmed. “Just got done with it.”

“Oh, great. Is he doing okay, or did you make it worse?”

Sonic leaned back and stared up. “He already looked hella depressed anyway, Sal.” He snapped back to sitting straight up and added, “But I betcha he’s doin’ better.”

“Considering you don’t have a black eye, I’d agree,” she snickered as she lightly punched his arm.

Sonic scoffed. “He wouldn’t be able to _catch_ me.” He took a quick breath and continued, “So were we gonna talk about something else, or can I go now?”

Sally rolled her eyes. “I’ve been considering making a run into Switch Nightmare Zone in a few days’ time. Aside from trying to find information on other Freedom Fighter cells we haven’t contacted, I thought I would let you know.”

“And how were you plannin’ on doing that?”

Sally brushed some loose hair out of her face. “That part’s still a work in progress.”

* * *

 

The cabin that stood before Trystan had been constructed in the branches of a kind of sequoia tree, at least fifty feet off the ground, and interconnected to other walkways. The house itself was squat, but it at least looked homey. Trystan walked up to the front “Two forty-three,” he repeated to himself as he read the embossment on the door aloud. He paused, then reached for the doorknob and carefully opened it up. The lights were off, but he could see that it actually looked bigger on the inside. _Must’ve built it straight into the tree,_ he reflected.

There was a dresser, a bathroom, a single bed to the left complete with lamp and nightstand, and a couple small tables stacked in the corner. Trystan walked in and threw his duffel bag on the bed, and opened it up after turning on the light. He had still had everything he needed, and didn’t really know where to _store_ it, so he simply took out his gun, knife, launcher and medical supplies, and laid them out on one of the tables for easy access. He had no other clothes besides what he already wore on his back, so no sense in putting them into the wardrobe. But lastly was the old family heirloom, which he removed from his bag with caution almost befitting reverence and slowly unwrapped it from the cloth. The gem was just as lustrous as it had always been, and there weren’t any cracks that he could see, thank God.

He placed it on top of his dresser, adjusting its wrappings in such a way that it could support standing the jewel straight up. He stepped back to admire his handiwork, and nodded in satisfaction. The gem glowed faintly in response.

* * *

 

Year 3236, Day 141:

Sidestep. Left hook. Turn 180°. Backpedal while punching. Roundhouse kick.

The training session today had actually managed to push Bunnie further than she expected. She quickly rolled to the side after Trystan came running up with another jab and quickly spun around with a kick to try and take her by surprise. She snatched his leg with her robotic arm, and made sure to supress her reflexes to crush it immediately (Trystan was no SWATbot, after all).

She could not, however, suppress her reflex to chuck what was held in her grip as hard as possible.

Trystan was sent flying across the field with an accompanying “Jesus tapdancing Christ…!” before he landed roughly, rolled a few times after hitting the dirt, and skidded to a halt.

“...Piss…” was the only thing he muttered after wiping some mud off his forehead.

Bunnie ran over and helped him to his feet. “Sweet honey-mixed marmalade, sugah, y’all okay?”

“I can’t feel anything below my knees, but other than that, I feel better than I was the day I was born.”

Bunnie chuckled and wiped her forehead. “Y’all put up a real fight today. All that trainin’s been payin’ off for yah.”

Trystan chuckled. “I can hope, Bunnie.” He cracked his back and knuckles before he grabbed his sweatshirt off the nearby benches. It was still torn, but he figured if he asked to get it tailored, someone would ask how it got that way, and he wasn’t going to risk getting caught. He dabbed his forehead and hair to get all the sweat and grass stains off as best he could before slinging it over his shoulder. “Damn, I’m starving.”

Bunnie, of course, picked up his grumbling immediately, although before she knew what she was doing, she offered, “Well, then, sugah, ya wanna grab some lunch with me?”

Trystan nearly did a spit take. “Wha-! Are you...are you _sure_ about that…?”

_...Well, shoot. No goin’ back now,_ she mused. “Ah’course! Figure it might be worth celebratin’ yer progress today. Y’all get’cher self changed an’ come back t’town square.”

“Uh...okay then. Thanks. For the offer, I mean.” He left before his mouth could stumble and screw him up even more, which left Bunnie to stretch her back and walk back over to the village pavilion, and she found a table that was in a less-crowded section. The civilians of Knothole had gotten used to Trystan by now, but it was still mostly a “begrudging tolerance” that was fragile at best.

She waited for about fifteen minutes before she saw Trystan slink into the pavilion, his hood up and not wanting to draw attention to himself as he scanned the crowd for Bunnie. She stood up, against the table she was at, and waved to get his attention. He noticed her, she could tell, but he sauntered around randomly before finally sitting down opposite her.

“Trystan, Ah’d ask if somethin’s wrong with ya, but y’all seem t’be good at makin’ it clear as day,” she told him.

"Am I really _that_ obvious?" He chuckled a little bit, but quickly reverted to paranoia, swiveling his head around before whispering back, “Well, can you blame me? The civvies here haven’t taken kindly to me at all since I got here. If they saw me with you doing something that didn’t involve work, they’d probably slit my throat.”

Bunnie just scoffed. “They’d have’ta get through me _first,_ sugah.”

Trystan was about to argue the point that it wouldn’t reflect well on her friends for attacking people, even in defense of someone else, but he was hungry and still tired, so he just dropped the subject and went to grab some food. The judgmental stares had lessened in the past week, but they were still there.

He brought back some soup, since that was about the only thing he had the stomach for at the moment, while Bunnie brought back a salad, beef tenderloin, and brownies, of all things. Trystan stared at the chops she had taken, thought it was kind of weird, but said nothing and gulped down another spoonful of broth.

Bunnie, of course, was the first to actually talk again. “So...how’re ya likin’ yer home here so far?”

Trystan glanced up, blew gently on his spoon, and shoved it into his mouth before he answered, “Honestly, I can’t complain.” He smiled weakly. “Could use some pretty little tulips in a vase, but it sure beats rotting away in my old apartment.”

“Y’all lived in some busted-up apartment complex in Switch Nightmare…?”

Trystan shrugged. “The roving SWATbots never checked inside buildings on the city limits. It was the safest place I could get into.” He stared back down, and started unconsciously stirring up the soup. “Hell, it was the only safe place I _knew.”_

Bunnie knew that pain. She and hundreds of others stranded here knew how it felt to lose their homes. “Ah’m sorry, sugah.”

Trystan chuckled. “Ah, don’t be. I was too young and dumb to leave, even after a month.”

Bunnie paused. She knew this territory was probably best left unexplored, but she couldn’t help asking. “How...how old are ya?”

“Nineteen.”

“Oh, mah stars. Y’all were only twelve?”

“When Robotnik decided to just shit all over everything? Yep,” he answered coldly. There was only silence between them after that, and Trystan went back to eating. It remained that way, and Trystan was about to leave when he heard Antoine walk up to the table.

_“Sacre bleu_ cheese! Of all zee people I should see togethair in public, Bunnie and zee Overlander are zee last ones on zat list,” Antoine stated.

“Okay, first,” began Trystan indignantly, “she trains me out in the open. Two, I have a _fucking_ name, y’know.”

“What’ch ya’ll doin’ ‘Twan?” Bunnie asked, ignoring both the boys’ egos.

“Ah, _oui,_ I was making my weekly trip to zee market to stockpile my groceries for cooking,” Antoine explained. “But I thought zat, perhaps, I should at least say ‘ _bonjour’_ to zee both of you at zee time I caught sightline of you…” Antoine cocked an eyebrow and glared at Trystan. “Even eef I do not personally _agree_ with some people.”

“Antoine…”

Trystan just smirked and put his hand up. “Relax, Bunnie. Unlike Ant here, I can at least take insults in stride.”

Antoine huffed and Bunnie quickly changed the subject. “Well, ‘Twan, color me curious now, what were y’all gonna cook up?”

“Ah-hah...! _Foie de canard et viande rôtie lente!_ Eet eez an old family recipe, and one I am ‘ead over wheels in love with, _tu pourrais dire.”_

Bunnie giggled and corrected him, “Ah think ya’ll mean ‘head-over-heels’, sugah-’Twan.”

Antoine waved his hand around. _“Oui, oui, oui,_ zat eez what I meant.”

Trystan crossed his arms and scoffed. “No offense, Ant, but the only way you can impress me with your cooking is if you can make a full seven-course meal out of nothing but canned peas, grits, water with seven percent lead by volume, and moldy newspaper.”

His comment made Antoine’s face go from subdued shock to abject terror, to deathly sick in a matter of seconds. Trystan was fairly sure he was going to throw up before forcing himself to keep his lunch down. “...Di’j ya’ll _act’lly_ make yer food like that...?” The concern in Bunnie’s voice was more than apparent, as was her disbelief that Trystan was still functioning like a normal person after having admitted that.

Trystan paused for a moment, but then threw his head back and laughed. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding.” Antoine and Bunnie, however, didn’t have the time to chuckle at his joke before he added, “Nah, I kept the lead-riddled water out of my diet. Otherwise, I would never have lasted seven years in New Pacific.”

That almost did Antoine in, as he clutched his throat and made a deep retching sound accompanied by a pained _“Mon dieu…”_ , which Trystan tried very hard not to laugh openly at. Bunnie was more reserved about trying to keep her appetite, although she did nudge her brownies away. Trystan, being a stone-cold trooper, just came off his high of watching some comedy gold reactions, by chuckling a bit and drinking more of his soup.

“On the bright side, ever since I got here and got used to normal, unspoiled and non-canned food, I’ve regained my will to live, which I didn’t even realize I lost until about several months ago,” he added.

“Think Ah’m gonna skip havin’ seconds,” Bunnie muttered.

Trystan looked up from his near-empty soup bowl. “Sorry if I killed your hunger.” He was still smiling like an idiot, but his tone was as sincere as he could get it.

Bunnie smiled at him, albeit weakly, and assured him it was okay. Antoine was less sincere. “I suppose I should be expecting nothing less from _vous.”_

Trystan was silent as he stared at his soup, but slowly shifted to his left, hunching over and gave Antoine a death glare from under the hood of his sweatshirt. “I might be able to take a joke, but my _patience_ with you has limits, baguette bread.”

This, despite Trystan sitting down, made Antoine’s pupils shrink, and he reflexively backed away and started whimpering a bit. A smile slowly crept across Trystan’s face and he chuckled. “Relax, Ant, I’m playin’ with ya.”

Antoine, after realizing he’d been made a fool of yet again, became indignant. “Why you…!” He puffed out his chest, preparing another batch of hot air, at least Trystan assumed that’s what it was. He took a step forward and declared, “I am more zan certain zat _un_ _grossier, sans honneur, sauvage payson_ such as _you_ can truly be just as intimidiating as zey pretend!”

Trystan had no idea what Antoine just called him, but it sounded nasty. He crossed his arms and smirked. “Is that a challenge, crouton?”

Antoine paused for a second. He hadn’t expected Trystan to act so casual about his sudden outburst. “... _Oui,_ eet eez now!” And with that, Antoine began to walk away, only turning around once to shout a command to Trystan. “You will be meeting me in zee training field in an hour’s time, Overlander!”

Bunnie tilted her hat up, eyes wide as telescope lenses. She whistled. “Shoot...Ah don’t think Ah ever seen ‘Twan get so riled up b’fore.”

Trystan shrugged and went back to finishing off the last couple vegetables in the soup. “He thinks he can pick on me because I’m the new blood. Whatever he wants, I ain’t worried.”

* * *

 

 

Antoine brushed his hair with the comb he always kept on his person a dozen times over as he looked down into the small pond close by the training grounds. Still not close to his standards, he quickly shifted part of the left side over to the right. Too uneven. He just went back to going down the middle, and brushed off the epaulettes on his shoulders. He smiled at his reflection. “Pairfect as always, you handsome devil.”

Almost immediately, a gunshot rang out that broke the silence and nearly did the same with Antoine’s resolve. He screamed and dove for the cover of a nearby bush. When he finally worked up the nerve to peek out, he saw Trystan, pointing his smoking revolver at a small bullseye used for target practice. He stood up straight, emptied the gun’s chamber of viscous silver liquid, and turned to face Antoine with a smirk on his face. “You done gussying up now, Ant?”

Antoine quickly pretended he didn’t even come close to freaking out and he straightened up. “But of course,” he answered coolly.

“Good. Now tell me what you’re so intent on challenging me on. I gotta get back to my pad and spruce things up while I’m not gettin’ shot at.”

_“Sacre bleu,_ you are even more insufferable zan Sonic,” Antoine muttered. He walked over to a weapon rack and pulled a wooden sword off it, swinging it around twice before pointing the tip at Trystan. “I would be wishing to see you beat me at _zis,”_ he challenged, even though he gulped as quietly as he could after saying it. _“En garde, l’étranger.”_

Trystan, although still remaining calm, couldn’t help but be surprised and a bit unnerved. Standard hand-to-hand combat was something he could manage, but he’d never touched a sword, let alone _seen_ one, in his life. However, he remained undaunted and let his Overlander pride walk him over to the weapon rack, take a sword, and go a few paces away from Antoine. He held the weapon in the same way Antoine did, although his grip on it was shaky.

Antoine cocked an eyebrow and took a quick step forward; Trystan retreated mostly out of reflex. Mostly.

He could see a smug grin creeping its way across Antoine’s face. “Oh, I ain’t giving you all the satisfaction of spooking me,” he mumbled.  In response, Trystan shot forward and took a wild, wide swing, which Antoine did not expect. He yelped and reflexively swung up to block it. It managed to connect, and the force of his arm shot the wooden sword out of Trystan’s hand; it landed on the grass a dozen feet away or so with a dull _clunk._

Antoine was momentarily dumbfounded that he had actually managed to show off his superiority. “I...I am victorious…?” but he quickly spluttered, recomposed himself and pointed the tip of his sword at Trystan, who was now leaning back with his hands up in surrender, although he kept a blank stare on his face. “A-ha! Of course I am victorious! As you can s-see, Overlander,” Antoine goaded, “I have shown you who eez zee boss!”

Trystan was disappointed he didn’t even get the chance to smack Antoine once, but he let Antoine have his fun. “Not bad, crouton, not bad at all.”

_“Hmph._ Considering I beat you, I think I did much bettair zan ‘not bad.’ Speaking of, I wish to ask a cater of you,” Antoine rebuked, putting his sword down.

“ _‘Cater?’_ What the hell…?”

_“Oui,_ a cater. Somezing you would do for goodwill between friends.”

It took Trystan a second to register what he missed before. “That’s ‘favor,’ Ant. Why should I grant you a favor?”

Antoine was silent, but Trystan saw him breathe in sharply with a look of what he associated with mild regret on his face and whispered, “Well, zat eez because I am not zee man I wish I was…”

Trystan paused, but he eventually gained an idea of where Antoine might have been going. “And…?”

“Although it pains me inside to say it, I am...not…” He struggled with his choice of words. “Not...zee most... ‘ow shall I say, _gallant_ Freedom Fighter.”

“Uh- _huh_. Well, you could’a fooled me.” Trystan crossed his arms and shifted his body weight to the right.

“And _zat_ eez my favor. Since I cannot face such ‘umongous villains, I will settle with fighting you.” A sneer worked its way across Trystan’s face and he took a couple steps forward, which made Antoine tremble a bit. _“C-c-chaque fois que vous êt-t-t-tes d-disponible, bien sûr...”_

“In English, dammit.”

“W-whenevair you are available, of course,” Antoine stammered.

Trystan racked his brains for a second before answering with, “Fine. You wanna use me as a punching bag? Go ahead. I need experience. But you’re doing it during my training period, with Bunnie and me.” He grinned bitterly. “I need a witness if you ‘accidentally’ stab me one too many times, and I have’ta complain to Sally about it.”

Antoine wasn’t stupid enough to challenge that claim. He only nodded and took a couple steps backward. “V-very well, Overlander.”

Trystan’s disposition changed almost immediately. “Alright. Glad we understand each other.” Trystan  was about to break off the conversation, but stopped short and added, “Oh, and you’ll need to be here by eleven a.m., if you didn’t know already.”

Antoine said nothing as he left for Knothole proper, leaving Trystan to fire at some targets with his revolver.


	8. In the Zone, Part 1

The “war room” was dim, as of now. Those gathered included Sonic (of course), Tails, Amy, and Trystan. Sally was going to arrive and give them the plan soon enough, but until then, Trystan opted to let the others talk amongst themselves. He heard a couple gems, mostly just the stuff Amy was spitting out, gushing over Sonic and whatnot, as he looked over his gun. He didn’t do much with it, aside from flicking it around so that the bullet chamber would detach from the barrel with a metallic _click._ He had no reason to do that, really. He just liked the sound it made. Tails seemed interested in it, too.

“Hey, Trystan...can I look at that?” he asked.

Trystan shot a sideways glance at him. “Aren’t you a little too young to use a gun?” he asked with a smirk.

“I’m not gonna _use_ it,” Tails corrected, “I’d like to study it.”

Trystan stared at Tails for a minute, but he eventually handed him the revolver, after switching the safety on and adding, “Don’t shoot your eye out,” with a wink.

Tails immediately set about checking the tiny buttons and switches on the handle of the gun (besides the safety, of course), flicking the bullet chamber open, and generally poking and prodding it.

“Never seen somebody express so much interest in a _revolver_ before,” Trystan pointed out.

“Well, I really wanna see what this thing can do.” Tails kept looking over the weapon before nodding and handing it back to Trystan. “Besides, I find myself getting new design ideas from new tech I can find.”

“Not gonna lie, I envy that brain of yours,” Trystan answered. Despite all the fun he and some other people had poked at Tails for being young, he _was_ mature, something even Sonic couldn’t seem to pull off if he tried. He then looked over at the man himself, who was busy trying to get Amy to lay off on the hugging. “Hey, Sonic!” Both he and Amy paused and looked over at Trystan, who went on to ask, “How’d that last mission go on the forty-second? I would’a asked earlier but Bunnie conked me on the head harder than I thought and I was out of it for two whole days.”

Sonic chuckled at how he imagined Trystan would look stumbling around like a drunk with a goose-egg on his head, and answered, “It was fantastic! Got to see Buttnik on a monitor. Man, ya should’a seen his face! He looked like an oversized tomato!”

“A big, ugly, _rotten_ tomato,” Amy added.

“Preach it, sister,” Trystan proclaimed as he held up his hands.

There was only a moment of quiet before Sally finally made it back into the room with Nicole in her hand, and she seemed more than ready to go on a covert ops mission. “Well, Sal?” Sonic asked. “What’s the skinny?”

“Nicole’s got a lock on a facility that’s storing the last couple Auto Dusters. We’re going to finish these things off,” she explained with a triumphant smile.

“Finally, this damn plotline’s gonna get some traction,” Trystan chuckled.

“You say something, Trys?”

Trystan looked up, wiping the grin off his face. “No, Sonic, why’d you ask?”

“Guys?” Trystan and Sonic swung their heads back to face Sally. “Focus, please?” Sally interrupted.

They both nodded.

* * *

 

“So we’re not even being subtle about this, then?” Trystan normally found it easy to talk while driving, but having to watch out for Sonic and Amy running along his right while ducking and weaving through the grimy, cluttered streets of Robotropolis was pushing his focus.

“Nope,” Tails answered.

“Hey, what Sal says goes,” Sonic remarked, not taking his eyes off the road ahead.

The plan was simple: Sally would go it alone and infiltrate the warehouse, while Amy, Tails, Sonic, and Trystan went loud to distract all of Robotnik’s forces nearby. That was part of the fun of going on missions, at least according to Sonic. They always tried to remain unpredictable in their methods, and more often than not, it threw Robotnik off.

The group whizzed by some hard working robians, who took a minute to register what just flew past, and then quickly chased after them. Trystan was the first to take notice. “Hey,” he said to get everyone’s attention, “we got some bums tryin’ to mooch off us. Should we start a fight?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Amy interjected.

“Amy’s right, pal,” Sonic added. “I’d rather not have ‘hurting mindless drones’ on my resumé.”

“Jesus, I’m not saying ‘Hey, let’s kill some motherf-’” He stopped himself, remembering Tails was present, but continued, “...I’m just saying we get their attention so they register us as a threat.”

Tails looked behind him. “Well, they’ve kinda already done that, so I don’t see a point.”

“...I mean, more of a threat than we already _are.”_

* * *

 

 

The rooftops were dark, and only Sally’s lithe figure could be made out against the backdrop of neon lights and rust-tinted smog. She had split off from her friends a few minutes ago, leaving them to cause some chaos in the streets. The first few times she had to leave Sonic in the beginning days of Robotnik’s reign were hard, and she worried about him simply because he wasn’t in her line of sight.

She fell to the ground after a few long jumps across the skyline and immediately stuck to an adjacent wall like glue, peeking out to watch two SWATbots march past her. They turned a corner, and Sally continued her advance, briefly pulling Nicole out of her vest pocket to check her progress.

“The warehouse is approximately one-point-seven miles north and zero-point-two-five miles east, Sally.”

“Thanks, Nicole,” she whispered. Sally continued on through the dimly-lit streets below the blinding skyline, dodging any glances the SWATbots and robians threw in her direction, and she got to the storage for the remaining machines of mass destruction in no time.

The building itself was nothing to outlandishly different from the other warehouses in the city, but Sally had read the floor plans, and according to them, there was a lot more being held below ground level. She dashed around to the front door. It was big, bulky, glazed in a dull chrome, and there were SWATbot guards posted around it. She stuck to the corner of the warehouse.

By now, a few SWATbots had joined the stampede of robians chasing the Freedom Fighters down. Sonic kept them busy by slowing down and taunting them, then speeding away after getting within arm’s length. Amy hadn’t been passive either, as she had gone in complete 180s, and used her hammer to beat a few SWATbots into submission. Sonic, of course, ran back to grab her, which, of _course,_ she gladly let happen.

Trystan, however, decided that it wasn’t enough, and he deftly swung his duffel bag off his back.

“Trystan, what’re you doing?” Amy questioned.

“Bringing out my ace in the hole.” He pulled out his grenade launcher and slid it over his wrist, switching the settings to “sticky grenade.” He looked up at the skyline. He considered trying to blow one up, but remembered that this was Robotnik’s design, and that was more trouble than it was worth. “Sonic!”

Sonic had kept pace alongside Trystan for most of their cruise, but seemed a little confused when he said, “Grab Amy and take a detour. We’ll meet up back at...wherever it was, that big ‘scraper we passed a few streets ago.”

“Oh, come on. Do I _have_ to carry Amy?” Sonic called.

The answer was a resounding “Yes!” from both Trystan and Amy in unison. Sonic sighed and turned to scoop Amy up quickly, an opportunity she gleefully used to throw her arms around his neck.

“Kinda not likin’ you right now, dude,” Sonic grumbled. Tails, on the other hand, couldn’t help but giggle to himself.

“I’ll make this quick, then,” Trystan assured with a wry grin. Sonic and his friends sped off down a different street and he swung his hoverbike around, driving in reverse. He was slightly worried about trying this maneuver, but hopefully, he wouldn’t have to hold it for long. He aimed the launcher at the ground and let a grenade drop, detonating it a couple seconds later, after bringing his bike back around to face forward.

He didn’t get a good look behind him, but he heard the explosion, saw a flash of light as well as a bunch of SWATbot parts hitting the ground. “Probably not enough to warrant a small army coming after us...need to blow something else up,” he mused. He looked around, eventually settling on the city block he was on. He drove down the street until he found a crossing, and went hard to the left, sticking grenades on buildings at various intervals. Level the place, it would not, but damned if it wouldn’t be a pretty light show.

He went around the whole block, and when he came to the point where he had previously caused carnage, he kept going straight, and reversed the path he had taken all the way back to a solitary skyscraper that towered over most of the other buildings in the district. And there was Sonic, Tails, and Amy, waiting at its base. Tails and Amy both looked over at Trystan when he drifted by and skidded to a stop. He remained on his bike, but flashed a wide grin. “Told you I’d be quick.”

Sonic had been laying on his side, his left hand propping his head up, and a tired look on his face. “If you call that ‘quick,’ I’d hate to see your definition of ‘slow.’”

“Oh, I’m sorry I can’t outrun a fighter jet in my sleep,” Trystan remarked.

Sonic slowly got to his feet. “Honestly, the big question here is what were you planning on doin’? ‘Cause I didn’t see anything happen while you were gone.”

A low chuckle seeped out of Trystan’s mouth as he held up his left hand. “Wanted to make sure you’d get a good view of this.” He pressed the DET button on his grenade launcher, and this time, while there was no earth-shaking explosion, there _was_ a lot of red-orange light and black smoke rising in the block of Robotropolis they had left behind, accompanied by a sharp _*Boom!*_

Everyone except Trystan jumped, who only grinned from ear to ear and swung his hand out, tracing it across the horizon. “Blammo…” he trailed off and looked back at the other three.

Everyone was frozen from shock, considering he still hadn’t told anyone about the care package he’d received. Sonic was the only one would could utter a breathless “Whoah…” He turned to Trystan, who was leaned over on his bike, waiting for the signal to get going again.  “How’d you _do_ that?”

Before he or anyone of them could do anything else, there was an audible _click_ from somewhere just over their heads, and they looked up to see a camera drone hovering in place above them, it’s lens trained on the group. Trystan revved up his bike. “Can it wait a few minutes?”

Sonic brought his gaze back down and chuckled. “Only if you remember you owe me an explanation.”

Trystan barely got the word “Deal,” out of his mouth before Sonic grinned, took hold of Amy and Tails’ wrists, and sped away down the street. He was about to drive away as well, but figured while he had the camera drone’s attention…

He turned around, pulled out his revolver, took aim, and shot the drone out of the sky before trying to catch up to Sonic.

* * *

 

Robotnik had watched the clip of the Freedom Fighters running off back into the city at least five times already, and his scowl reached its maximum intensity after the second viewing. Snively remained cautious about saying anything, but Robotnik eventually droned, “It would appear they’re... _taunting_ me, Snively.”

“And they certainly have no idea what they’re dealing with,” Snively pandered.

Robotnik looked over his drumming fingers and down on Snively. His scowl disappeared and was slowly replaced with a sick grin. “You’ve grown too wise to my psyche, Snively.” Robotnik propped himself up and stepped down from his throne, walking over to a keypad on the circular main control panel to punch in a few numbers. “Attention, Endogenic Dimensional Transport Division. This is your supreme overlord, Robotnik. I want a progress report of the Zone Flux Cannon prototype, and I want it **now.”**

A voice on the other end, most likely a SWATbot, replied, “The prototype is working as intended, Lord Robotnik, we are still tweaking it so it may work efficiently-”

“I want the newest one you have off the assembly line, and make sure one-hundred percent of its energy is focused into the tachyon transmitter.”

“Sir,” came the robot on the other end, “the prototype consumes too much energy normally. Creating a custom one with all energy devoted to passing through the tachyon transmitter would only allow it to shoot once before it would become effectively useless.”

“One shot,” he replied with another twisted smile, “is all I need.”

* * *

 

Sally had peered around the side of the warehouse about three times before an alert came over the city-wide speakers. They were the words she needed to hear, not necessarily the words she wanted.

_“Alert! Alert! Freedom Fighter squad has been spotted in the northern district of Theta-25. All units, converge on the resistance and crush them!”_

The SWATbots posted at the entrance of the warehouse immediately went into combat mode, their visors flashing with intense red LED light as they charged off. Sally remained where she was, and as she predicted, a few combat-specialized robians came barreling out of the warehouse in droves. The stampede died down after a couple seconds, leaving her to jog up to the heavy steel door and plug Nicole into the security keypad after prying the maintenance panel off.

“Processing all possible access codes…done. Cross-referencing...done. We’re in, Sally.”

She smiled. “Good work, Nicole.” The doors slid open and she slipped inside.

The entryway was nothing more than a narrow corridor with a large view port at the end of it, about a dozen feet from the front door, and the end had glass doors and walls to make it easier to see out into the warehouse proper. The storage area had been drilled a few dozen feet down into the ground, and that made it look much larger on the inside. And just as expected, the last few Auto-Dusters were being stored down there, looking sleek and ready to fly.

And they would never get that chance if Sally had anything to say about it. “Nicole, can you get me a perimeter scan?”

“Let me see…” Nicole went quiet and her screen periodically flashed lime green. After a couple moments, she spoke again. “All scans indicate there are exactly twenty-seven worker robians left in this facility. I advise sabotaging each Auto-Duster individually, making sure they explode approximately two minutes after takeoff, so as not to endanger the workers being hurt by destroying the machines in the warehouse.”

Sally nodded and slowly propped the doors at the end open and stuck her head around the corner. Nothing out of the ordinary, and she could see some robians mulling about, doing touch-ups on Robotnik’s machines, as well as cleaning the facility. She managed to jump over a couple railings and get to ground level without being seen, and stuck close to the walls to avoid being spotted by any of the worker drones. It took her a few minutes longer, but she got around to the first one.

She looked it up and down, and thankfully, it wasn’t being worked on. She found no immediate openings to its inner compartments, a deliberate design choice by Robotnik, but having Nicole handy was always a massive advantage.

“Hmm…” Nicole had been plugged into a small adapter on the underside of the vehicle, and Sally was, in turn, waiting while she scanned its systems, while still keeping her ears tuned to any of the robians’ activities, should they wander by. “Alright, there should be a panel on the underside of the Duster, closer to the back. Press it.”

Sally crawled under the Auto Duster as instructed, although it took her slightly longer than she’d care to admit to find the panel, considering everything was painted the same shade of dirty cream color. When she did find it, however, the panel receded into the vehicle and opened up a small niche, filled with wires, servers, and spatial gyros. “I’m seeing a lot of tech in here, Nicole. What do I do about it?”

“According to my data, there are three wires you need to pull, as well reconfiguring a specific server.”

Sally unhooked Nicole from the adapter and brought her monitor closer. “Just tell me which ones.”

“There are two green wires and one black wire to your left that must be removed,” she explained.

“Those?” Sally asked, pointing to a small band of wires, containing two greens and one black.

Nicole giggled to herself. “Other left.”

Sally rolled her eyes while smiling and looked over to find the exact same wire configuration, which she pulled out and stuffed into a pocket on her vest. “Gotta make sure Robotnik can’t find them if I throw’em away,” she muttered before looking back to Nicole. “Now, how about that server reconfiguration?”

“Already on it,” Nicole said. She was silent for a moment before Sally heard her talking to herself. “Reconnecting...cross-referencing passwords...okay, now I should be able to...Yes!”

Nicole paused as one of the servers behind Sally’s head started smoking a bit before the lights on it switched colors to blue lights all over, instead of the multitude of LED lights the other servers inside had. “Done!”

“Well, that wasn’t as painful as I thought,” Sally remarked as she crawled out from under the Auto-Duster. “Now we just do it about…” She looked down the row of planes. “...Five more times, I think?”

Sally guessed it could have been worse. There could have been more of them stashed away, and she was relieved to hear that the major production plant had been blown to kingdom come a few days ago, even if she had never figured out what happened. She set about to ducking between Auto-Dusters and completing the same process for disabling them, and made it to the last one in no time.

“And...there we go!” she quietly exclaimed. “Now to get out of here.”

* * *

 

Trystan stole a quick glance behind him, and took a potshot. The bullet rebounded off a building and sailed away into the sky.

Sonic, on the other hand, was busy running between the ranks of the gathered SWATbots and trashing them, while simultaneously throwing robians aside. Tails was dropping Amy on top of targets like an angry pink bomb as well. Trystan was busy running around the square erratically, trying to stay mobile and not get shot again. The Freedom Fighters had been squaring off in the same section of Robotropolis for the past forty-five minutes or so, a few blocks of dessicated buildings combined with a large city square with a golden-copper statue of Robotnik crushing a crown beneath his heel. It was as far away from their established rendezvous point as they could go.

Trystan got a good look at some SWATbots coming down on top of them in personalized hovercraft, and he took a snapshot at one. The bullet missed the automaton’s head, but it did take a small piece of its vehicle off. Not enough to cause it to spiral, though. “We got bogeys comin’ down on our heads!”

“Ah, that’s no problem! Tails!” Amy called. He responded by grabbing Amy by the wrists and throwing her upward. She managed to destroy one before falling down again, and Sonic, being the hero, snatched her out of the air, carrying her bridal-style for about thirty seconds before landing, putting her down, and straight-up wallrunning to get the air he needed to hit the remaining SWATbots. He went up, locked onto one, and spun toward it as a blue ball of death. The hit landed, and he chained that attack together several more times before somersaulting out of it, whooping like crazy.

Just to prove he was the hottest damn thing since the sun, he fell toward a group of SWATbots tailing Trystan and proceeded to stomp on their domed heads and incapacitate them. Trystan finished them off with a few well-placed shots. “Fuckin’ show-off,” he snickered.

“Hey, you’ve got the freakin’ grenade launcher,” Sonic shot back. “Speaking of, where **did** you get that thing, seriously?”

Trystan looked behind Sonic, rolled to the side, and switched his revolver to “non-lethal” mode in order to stun a combat robian charging toward them. “First, is now _really_ the best time, Sonic? Second, I can’t jump thirty feet in the air on a whim, which would help immensely in the ‘not-blowing-myself-up-department,’ by the by.”

“Ya can’t at least tell me in a couple words?”

“Wouldn’t make sense,” Trystan interrupted. “Need to show you the note.”

Sonic cocked an eyebrow. “What note?”

“Watch your three!”

Trystan’s warning was mostly unnecessary, as Sonic had adapted to pick out when some big hunk of metal was charging him, and he jumped up and swung his legs around in a superfluous kick that sent the charging SWATbot sprawling. Unfortunately, Robotnik’s forces weren’t letting up, and to make matters worse…

“Hello again, rodent.”

Sonic snapped his head upward to see, lo and behold, Dr. Robotnik himself descending in his Egg-Mobile (for being an evil genius, he had some questionable names for his inventions sometimes). It seemed a little different this time, as the vehicle had some sort of cannon attached to the underside. He was hovering just above them, and he held up some sort of remote in his left hand. “This is it, hedgehog!” he proclaimed. “This is the last day you and your tree-hugging friends will ever trouble me!”

He pressed a button on the top of the remote and the cannon’s barrel began to glow red before firing off a laser, aimed straight at Sonic. He dodged out of the way no problem.

What he wasn’t counting on was for the laser shot to explode outward fifteen feet after impact. If he had been any closer, he would have been fried, but luck always seemed to be on his side when dealing with Robotnik, and he only felt mild pain on his back as the blast threw him away, rolling over a couple times as he skidded across the asphalt.

Amy and Tails cried out, fearing for Sonic’s health, while Trystan called up his hoverbike and tore through a few SWATbots and robians to get a clear shot on Robotnik, who must have obviously noticed him, but didn’t seem alarmed that obvious death was approaching. He quickly cranked up his revolver’s power a couple notches, took aim at Robotnik’s head, and pulled the trigger.

The gunshot reverberated off the city buildings loud and clear, but instead of a gaping hole where Robotnik’s brain should be, there was only a dark blue aura around Robotnik’s Egg-Mobile, and a spark where the bullet should have landed.

Robotnik grinned. “Ah, the youth. So rash...and **stupid.”** He pressed the button, and the cannon charged up again. Tails acted on instinct and hoisted Amy up into the air as fast as he could, while Trystan started moving away from the targeted area. The laser hit and scorched the back of his bike.

Trystan made for Sonic, who looked shaken, but no less worse for wear. He stopped for only a second to blast some encroaching SWATbots and shove him onto the bike. Trystan did a 180 turn and sped down a nearby street, Amy and Tails close behind. Robotnik, of course, gave chase, along with his small army of metallic minions.

“Come now, kinsman,” he boasted over a microphone, “don’t tell me you thought that would work? I _am_ Doctor Robotnik, after all.” He shot another laser blast, which Trystan swerved hard to avoid.

“Come talk to me when I give a damn. And don’t screw up my car either, insurance ain’t cheap!” Trystan shot back. He whipped out a vial of nanomorphine and handed it to Sonic, who was well enough by now, but still trying to catch his breath.

“Huh? What’s this crap?” he asked upon getting a glimpse of the needle.

“Nanomorphine. It’ll help knit your skin back together. Stick it into your elbow bridge,” he rapidly explained, trying to concentrate on driving.

Sonic was getting increasingly confused and tried to ask again, “Where’d you _get_ all this stuff, Trys?”

“I told you ‘later,’ damnit!”

Sonic stared at him, puzzled, but shook his head and stuck the needle into his arm. It felt odd at first, like a bunch of small insects were crawling up his arm, but Trystan was right. The searing pain of the laser burns was melting away. He chuckled as he felt his back. “Well, at least my fur didn’t get singed.” Sonic jumped off Trystan’s bike and started sprinting alongside it. “Thanks for the pick-me-up, man. Now, if you’ll excuse me…”

Sonic suddenly veered off to the left, taking a higher street. This was met with mild outcry from Tails and Amy. “Sonic! Where’re you going?”

Sonic did nothing but wink at them. “Gotta distract ol’ Buttnik somehow, right?” With nothing more to say, he jumped up and homing-attacked his way across a swarm of badniks, and out of their sightline. It drew some of Robotnik’s forces away, but not enough to really let their guard down.

Tails cried out after him, but by then, it would have fallen on deaf ears. After a moment of silence, he turned to Amy and Trystan. “So...now what?”

Trystan didn’t have to think too hard about that. “Simple. We regroup, salvage what victory we can if Sally hasn’t disabled the remaining Auto-Dusters yet, and get the lead out. Amy, hop on!”

“Hey, I might not be as fast as Sonic, but I can still keep pace enough to not fall behind him. If I can do that, I can do the same with you and your hovercar!” she replied indignantly.

Trystan shrugged. “‘F you say so, kid.” He glanceded at Tails quickly before revving up his bike. “Follow me.”

Without another pause, Trystan gained serious forward momentum on his bike, and it began to glow, some parts came off and realigned themselves, and it transformed into its speedbike mode. He sped off down the long stretch of freeway they were on, Tails and Amy not too far behind.

Robotnik had been watching their whole ordeal from further back, opting to let his other minions deal with Sonic. He didn’t want to run the risk of Sonic breaking his nanite shield and grounding him before the fun could start. He picked up a telecom device from the arm of his chair and said, “Well, Snively? Do you have those triangulation coordinates yet?”

Snively, still in the throne room of Robotropolis, was studying a large holographic screen of the city, and two reticles circling a radar blip moving west, and one moving north by northwest. They crossed the same point three times, directly over a warehouse in the northern district, and the location lit up red. Snively stared at the blinking light for a moment before sighing in defeat and leaning his head on his hand. “Yes, sir.”

“Send them over. Let’s see if my hypothesis was right.” Snively tapped a button and waited only seconds before hearing his uncle’s triumphant laugh on the other end, which made him clench his fists and lay his head on the control console. “Of course I was!” Robotnik proclaimed.

“I expected nothing less, sir,” Snively droned.

“Well, Snively, you know what that means.” Robotnik grinned when he heard Snively hold back a choked sob on the other end of the receiver. “This means you’re either polishing the Auto Dusters if they haven’t been **destroyed** already, or you’re cleaning my collection of antique robotics to make sure they don’t rust.” He paused for a moment before adding in a more serious tone, “This is why you don’t make bets with a genius, Snively.”

* * *

 

SWATbots firing at him from all sides. Combat robians taking swings at him from darkened alleys when they thought he wasn’t prepared. This was the life. Sonic swerved to the side after a SWATbot jumped off a building trying to pin him, and he dropped to the ground and kicked, tripping his would-be assailant. He used his momentum to spin around on his shoulders, landing back on his feet and blasting away again.

This highway was, at the very least, a decent tool to measure where he was. He could see, through intermediate breaks in the skyline, that the cityscape was flattening out, and the buildings were slowly turning into factories. Sonic looked behind him. There was still an armada of robots tailing him, some of them effectively well. Not for much longer, at least.

“Well, guys, I’d love to stay and laugh at you more, but I got other places to be!” With that parting shot, he vaulted over the railing on the highway. It was about a seven-story drop, and would have normally severely injured a normal person. Sonic, being anything but normal, wall-jumped his way to ground level, bouncing off rooftops and buildings before reaching the ground and speeding away. Even though there were a couple SWATbots in hovercrafts tailing him, they couldn’t keep pace with him in an open factory district, and in no time flat, he reached the warehouse holding the last few Auto-Dusters.

He didn’t try to knock on the door, instead opting to bash his way in by hitting it with multiple homing attacks until it gave way, and he rushed through the entrance corridor without any regard for stealth. He vaulted over the handrails on the catwalks over the main area, and fell to the floor. This, understandably, garnered the attention of the robians tending to everything. They all came at Sonic, mindlessly, and he kicked the closest ones aside with minimal effort, spin-dashing his way through a few more, knocking them over like bowling pins. It took him only two minutes to deal with the dozen or so workers, and he dusted his gloves off, whistling causally.

He then called out, “Hey, Sal! Where are ya?”

“Over here!” Sonic turned around to see Sally roll out from under a nearby plane and run over to him, smiling proudly.

“You screw up Buttnik’s plans?”

“All thanks to you,” Sally replied with a small laugh. They were about to make a swift exit when they both heard the glass door at the end of the entrance hall shatter, and they whipped around to look at what was going on. After a second, Trystan charged into their view, followed shortly by Tails and Amy. Tails, understandably, flew down to Sonic’s level, and quickly hugged Sonic.

“...Did we miss anything?” Trystan called down. Sonic only laughed and shook his head.

Amy ran around the walkway, located the nearest stairs, and dashed over to Sonic’s side while Trystan just inhaled and jumped the handrails, rolling after he hit the ground. “Great job, everyone! Thanks to you three, the Auto-Dusters won’t be deforesting anything anytime soon.” Sally’s proclamation was met with a cheer from everyone, especially Trystan.

“Yeah, I didn’t screw up this time! Whoo-hoo...!”

Sonic snickered at him. “That depends. I mean, you thought you could just try shootin’ Robuttnik and expect him to drop dead.” Sally’s expression shifted over to “slight concern” when Sonic brought up Trystan’s preferred method of dealing with problems, but she refrained from saying anything.

“And _you_ nearly got toasted, and I had to bail you out. You have _no_ room to talk here, Sonic,” Trystan claimed.

Sally immediately shifted to “worry about your best friend mode,” and stared daggers at Sonic. “What did you do _this_ time?”

“Relax, Sal, they weren’t serious burns.”

Sally’s pupils got smaller. _“Sonic!”_

Trystan had seen the whole “angry girlfriend schtick” before and remained silent as a mouse. Sonic, on the other hand, did what he was best at: deflecting the situation. “And speakin’ of which, Trys! Care to actually explain where you got all that gear now?”

It took Sally a minute to notice Trystan now had something attached to his left wrist. “Oh, yeah. See, I, uh...I got this note-”

Trystan was cut off by some kind of bomb going off on the ceiling, and tons of metal tiles and sheathing coming down in truckloads. Everyone screamed, and Sonic instinctively grabbed Amy and Sally and sped over to the nearest Auto-Duster, dragging them under it, while Trystan pulled Tails close and bent over his head to protect him, just in case. The debris fell quickly, and while Trystan hadn’t come out scot-free, he was amazed he and Tails didn’t get completely buried under it. He stood back up to his full-height, throwing some pieces of the roof off of him in the process. Tails was shivering a little bit, and was still curled up for protection. When he sensed he was still alive, he slowly opened his eyes and looked around.

“You okay there, kid?” Trystan asked. Tails didn’t answer with words, just a nod of his head. He must have been in too much shock to speak.

Sonic and the others took a few tentative steps out of their shelter, and it felt like ages before they heard another voice.

It was not the voice they wanted to hear, though.

“We have _unfinished business,_ Freedom Fighters.” They all looked up to see Robotnik floating just above the roof in his Egg-Mobile. It was positioned at a slightly downward angle, allowing Robotnik to see them without leaning over the edge of his hovercraft. “Allow me to show you my latest invention…” He slowly but deliberately stood up in his vehicle, aligning his stance so that he wouldn’t fall out of the Egg-Mobile as he hoisted an odd looking ray gun out. It had no barrel, instead some sort of crystal and a lot of tubes and wires running from it to the stock, and a few more going forward into what must have been a focusing chamber.

Sally gritted her teeth and stepped forward, pointing up. “Whatever it throws at us, we’re not scared!”

“Is that so, my dear?” Robotnik chortled. “What if I told you I had it named the ‘Zone Flux Cannon?’”

Her face immediately went from a stalwart defender to horrified shock. Sonic looked a bit worried, too, and whatever they understood about that thing went right over Trystan’s head. “There’s no way…” Sally muttered breathlessly.

“You forget, Princess Sally, that I am Doctor Julian Robotnik!” He pulled a lever on the left side of the weapon, and the crystal began to flash between red, blue, green, and purple. “And if it hasn’t been created before, I **can** create it!”

He pulled the trigger, and some sort of cosmic ray shot out of the focusing chamber, cutting a swath through the air and impacting the left of the warehouse, as far from the Auto-Dusters as possible. After a second, the impact point exploded and warped the architecture around it, making some kind of strange, alien sounds that can’t be explained in text format. What was left after the initial explosion was a swirling vortex of red, blue, and yellow, and even more odd shapes, intermixed with crystalline formations that seemed as viscous as water.

On top of all, that, it seemed to have the gravity well of a black hole, or at the very least a selective black hole. Everything was being drawn toward the gaping maw of the portal at varying speeds, the debris of the roof being the fastest, and the Auto-Dusters slowly inching forward.

Sonic and everyone else were in the “fall in faster” category.

Trystan and Tails were the first to start sliding in, which was met with panicked cries for help from Tails (and more than a few from Trystan). They both fell over as the vortex sucked them in, but Trystan acted as fast as he could manage and called out.

“Tails!” He grabbed Tails’ hand before activating the plasma blade on his knife and driving it into the floor. It managed to slow their progress exponentially. “Whoo! Okay, not much better, but it’s a start.” He turned around to look at Tails, who, although scared, seemed extremely relieved, and he smiled to let Trystan know he was okay.

Amy and Sonic had managed to grab onto the landing gear of the Auto-Duster they had hid under, as they had a bit more of reaction time, and Sonic snatched Sally’s hand since she had nothing to grab hold of in her immediate vicinity. Everything looked bleak, but salvageable.

At least until Sally lost her hold on Sonic.

She shrieked and tumbled backward, and Sonic let got of the landing gear to grab her. When he did, he carried her in his arms and started to run back toward the plane as fast as he could.

“Sonic...!” Amy’s eyes were wide with fear, and to make matters worse, the vortex’s pull seemed to be getting stronger with each passing second. It was enough to cause Amy to slip and roll forward, screaming the whole way into the portal’s maw.

“Amy, no!” Sonic shifted his direction to try and get close enough to stop her (how, he hadn’t really thought about). Even Sally tried to reach out and grab her arm, or something, but she was just barely out of reach, and she fell into the strange portal, still calling after Sonic.

Sonic gritted his teeth. “Dammit…” He had to rescue Amy now. But he had no way to put Sally down without her being pulled in either. Then, he felt her hand on his shoulder, and he looked into her eyes. She nodded.

Trystan was wondering what in the world Sonic and Sally were planning when he suddenly turned and shouted, “Tails!” Sonic shifted direction again, coming closer to Trystan and Tails, and by extension, the raging vortex.

“W-what is it, Sonic?”

He didn’t do anything but smile reluctantly. “...Take care of yourself, buddy.”

It took a second before the realization sunk in. “Sonic, no!”

Trystan was pretty angry about that decision, too, and he fumed, “Sonic, there are at least several different ways to attack this situation. Throwing yourself directly _into_ the jaws of death is by far the dumbest!”

“Hey, a guy’s gotta do what a guy’s gotta do,” Sonic answered coolly. He looked as Sally. “Hold on tight, Sal!”

With that last sentence, he stopped trying to fight the suction of the portal and let himself sail backward into its waiting grasp. Tails reached out after him, tears starting to form on the edges of his eyes. It took several seconds for him to turn around and look at Trystan. His expression betrayed his thoughts, and Trystan gave him a death glare.

“...Don’t you _dare,_ Tails.”

Tails’s eyes were now leaking slightly. “Trystan...he’s my best friend. I have to.”

Trystan got a little angrier and chided, “Young man, you need to stay right here. There’s nothing we can do-”

“Yes there is!” Tails shouted. “He’s like my big brother, and he’s always looked out for me!”

_Like my big brother._ Trystan was too stunned to react to Tails suddenly wrenching his hand open and watching him fly backward into the portal. “Tails!”

Seconds that felt like years passed. Trystan was the only survivor left of a surprise attack, and he pounded the steel floor under him with his free hand. “God... **damnit,** Sonic, you fucking idiot!” he spat. Suddenly, the sucking sound the portal was making began to sound like a dying chicken, and he looked backward to see the portal was closing rapidly. “Oh, my God, you’ve _gotta_ be kidding me.”

He stared at the ground for a second before turning his gaze upward. Dr. Robotnik was still there, and he seemed to have been watching the whole scene play out with a mix of hope and malicious glee. Trystan gritted his teeth and let the rage flow. “Listen, you miserable pot-bellied shit-coffin, the others may die or disappear, but I will make it my _mission_ to come back and hunt you down, and none of your hair-brained toys will stop me!” With that out of the way, he wrenched his knife free of the floor with an overdramatic yell and tumbled backward into the vortex.

It closed up a moment later, as if nothing had been there at all.

Robotnik peered meticulously at where the vortex had been for minutes upon minutes before jumping up and down in his Egg-Mobile, cheering, “I did it! I did it! I won! I’ve finally won!”

His cheering quickly devolved to maniacal laughter as he took control of his vehicle and flew back toward his castle. “With Sonic out of the way, the Freedom Fighters…”

He sucked in a deep breath and shouted so loudly, it almost turned into screeching.

_“Are as good as dead…!”_


	9. In the Zone, Part 2

Describing this pocket dimension would be like trying to describe the inner workings of the mind of the criminally insane. Small islands made of inorganic material floated through swirling chaos made of colors that looked off enough to be mistaken for impossible at first glance. Some of these islands had collided together to create one giant three-dimensional “continent” in the center of an asteroid field of random matter, mostly made of crystal. Somewhere on this continent, Sonic found himself driving away unconsciousness.

He came to with a jolt, and sat up, swiveling his head around quickly. He paid no mind to his environment. All he could tell was that it was a solid chunk of crystalline rock and that was good enough for him. Sonic got to his feet and called out, “Tails! Amy! Sally! Trys! Where are you guys…!?”

His voice seemed to carry for miles, and yet never got far at all. He took another quick glance around before jogging through a small crevasse in front of him and he traveled through a few areas, not bothering to scan them in-depth, and he had traveled about a mile from his starting position when he called out again hoping someone would answer. This time, he heard something in reply. To his left, a faint call of his name. He didn’t need to think twice to know it was Tails’ voice, and he sped away, over jagged mounds of crystal and bleached stone, until he caught sight of Tails bracing himself against a wall.

He stopped short, and Tails noticed. He walked forward unsteadily and almost fell, but Sonic caught him, and hugged him tight for a second before realizing something. “Tails, why’re you here?”

Tails was still trying to catch his breath from whatever rough entry he’d suffered, but choked out, “I...I couldn’t j-j-just...stand by and let you dis...disappear, Sonic…”

“Tails, I keep tellin’ ya not to worry about me. You could’a died, bud,” Sonic muttered, still holding him tight. Tails gave no response, so Sonic held onto him until he said he felt steady enough to walk.

They both took a quick look around at everything, with Sonic scratching his head intermittently. “You think this is the Special Zone, Tails?”

“Most likely,” he answered while searching the sky.

Sonic looked over at him and stated, “C’mon. We gotta go find the others before things get worse.”

“Right behind you, Sonic!” Tails jumped and began to hover, which Sonic took as a sign to start running.

* * *

 

 

“Amy...? Amy? Come on, wake up!” Sally gently shook her shoulder to bring Amy back from unconsciousness, and she stirred and sat up slowly, clutching her head. Sally gave her some room as she stood up, albeit shakily. She did have a better time of it than Sally did, oddly enough, as Sally had a couple cuts across her arms.

After regaining her balance and composure, Amy suddenly whipped her head around, searching for something, and Sally was quick to try and calm her down. “Amy! What’s wrong?”

“Where’s Sonic!?” she cried.

“I don’t know, Amy, but we’ll find him. Just give me a minute to-”

“No, Sally! He could be in trouble! We gotta go find him now!” Amy was about to book it over the nearest hill before Sally grabbed her by the shoulder and held her in place.

“Amy, breathe for a minute.”

“But…”

“Just...breathe.” Sally tightened her grip until Amy did as she asked. “Sonic will be okay. Just relax a minute. How do you feel?”

Amy crossed her arms and huffed. “I’d feel better if Sonic was here, but other than that, I’m fine.”

Sally smiled and shrugged slightly. “If you’re sure…”

Amy took that as a sign that she could stand up again. “Of course I’m sure!”

Sally held out her hand in a “you first” gesture. “Then lead the way. You’ve always had better luck tracking Sonic than I’ll ever have.”

“Call it girl’s intuition,” Amy giggled.

* * *

 

Sonic and Tails had been tearing across the landscape for awhile. It was impossible to say how long for sure in the absence of a sun or anything else that could tell time. Tails had been serving as a scout, although the chaotic sky unnerved him enough that he wouldn’t go too high in the air.

“Any signs of life, Tails?” Sonic called up to him.

“Nope.”

“Well shoot,” Sonic grumbled. He kept sprinting toward the horizon line, which seemed to carry on forever in this dimension. Eventually, he caught sight of something in the distance. It looked like some sort of castle, and as they drew closer, the crystalline landscape around them began to even out, and some formations even resembled trees in a tightly-knit grove.

“Wow. Not bad,” Sonic whistled as he ran down a narrow path between the forest.

He had barely any time to admire the scenery before he heard Amy call out, “Sonic…!” and a split second later, she had lunged out from between the crystal trees and tackled him. He yelped and they both fell, with Tails swerving to the side to avoid being hit by either of them. After the initial shock, Amy got back up and put her hands on her hips in a playful manner. “Found him, Sally!”

Sally herself stepped out of the forest a moment later, and she chuckled a bit. “Really, I wish I had that kind of sixth-sense of yours.”

Sonic got up and dusted his shorts and vest off. “Yeah, well, I sure don’t. I don’t need one chick chasing me and another one nagging me all the time,” he replied.

Sally punched his arm harder than usual, and Sonic exclaimed and rubbed it to numb the pain. “Ow...welp, anyhoo, did either of you see any sign’a Trys? ‘Cause we haven’t run into’im.”

Sally and Amy looked at each other and shook their heads, and Sonic snapped his fingers. “Crap...Guess I gotta go find’im. C’mon Tails, we gotta juice.” Tails nodded and went back to flying at Sonic’s side as he told the girls, “Be back in a flash, you two!” He didn’t wait for an answer, and immediately raced away, back the way he and Tails had come. This left Amy muttering indignantly to herself about “how she just found him” and Sally with one question:

“Now where do we go?” In all honesty, it didn’t take long for either of them to know that their best bet was to continue up the path toward the structure in the distance.

The walk toward the building took longer than expected, but when they got closer, they could make out that all the details made the building look like a castle made of crystals and lavender stone. It looked eerily familiar.

“It...it looks like a reflection of the old castle,” Sally whispered, momentarily forgetting Amy and Tails were walking alongside her. The castle, in actuality, was much smaller than the one that stood in Mobotropolis before Robotnik conquered it. It actually only seemed to hold the throne room, something the two realized as they entered through an archway that completely lacked a door.

The throne room itself was just as grandiose as Sally herself remembered it. All it needed was the actual tapestries with the crest of the kingdom on it hanging from the arched ceiling. Familiar as it was, she and Amy opted to proceed with caution, which was well-deserved until they heard someone call out.

“Hello? Who’s there…?” It was a man’s voice, gentle yet firm as a father. Sally knew who it belonged to without even consciously thinking about it, and she turned in its direction to see a tall, lean squirrel mobian in a sky blue uniform and khaki trousers walking down a spiral staircase. He still wore a crown proudly on his head.

As soon as he caught sight of them, he stopped short, but his eyes and mouth twitched for a second before they lit up. “Sally! Is that really you…?”

In turn, she beamed with joy. “Daddy!” Sally rushed over to him, and they both embraced each other in a hug. Amy hadn’t heard Sonic tell any stories about his childhood when he had lived in the old castle, let alone King Nigel, but for some reason, he looked exactly like she imagined him to be: regal but jolly.

Nigel took a small step back to exclaim, “Sally! My daughter! Merciful God, I’ve missed you!”

Sally went right back to hugging her father tightly. “I missed you more.” He recoiled slightly, but laughed and placed his hands on her shoulder, smiling warmly.

The throne room was silent for a moment before Nigel looked around at both her and Amy and gestured out of an archway to the left of where they entered. “Shall we, ah...go for a walk? There’s so much we need to talk about.”

* * *

 

 

Trystan had been watching the roiling sky above him for what felt like hours. At first, it nearly made him want to puke, but he eventually felt like the numbness in his body had subsided enough that he could stand up. He pushed himself to his feet after rolling over a couple times like a limp ragdoll.

When he managed to get up, he felt something snap and he yelped and clutched his lower back. “I’m going to need a trip to the fuckin’ chiropractor after this,” he hissed.

After an impromptu self-adjustment, Trystan checked his belt. The car keys and revolver were still in place. His grenade launcher was still attached to his hand. He nearly had a heart attack when he couldn’t find his knife, but after a little bit of searching through some nearby craters in the landscape and some colorful words, he picked it up again. “...Now I gotta find where the fuck everyone else is,” he muttered, staring up at the sky.

Trystan figured his best bet was to pick a direction and walk until either he found someone, someone found him, he hit the horizon line, or he keeled over dead. It took him only five minutes to find another bizarre locale in this backwards dimension, a kind of network of crystal walls that looked like a funhouse mirror-maze on meth. The walls of the network had hundreds of individual faces in them, which bounced and skewed his own reflection so much, he sometimes mistook it for a different person. He continued working his way through the maze, etching small marks into some of the crystalline features to mark where he had been, until he heard some unholy screeching noise.

It sounded like nails on a chalkboard, but the frequency was far more intense than that. It was like he could hear a dog whistle. Trystan screeched and covered his left ear while spinning around with his gun drawn. However, as soon as the noise started, it stopped. Trystan was both thankful and extremely unnerved, but nevertheless, he carried on, this time with his revolver loaded and ready.

And as luck would have it, there were more sounds of nails-on-crystal, except now there was a cacophony of the noise, echoing in all directions. Trystan cursed as loud as he could and started shooting the crystal walls around him. Some of the smaller and weaker ones came down, shattering into millions of shards, which did nothing to help the noise problem.

He kept shooting until the horrendous noise stopped, and this time he addressed the situation head-on. “Whoever’s doin’ that, you’re not funny! Keep that shit up and I’ll stick your entire **arm** down your own throat when I find ya!”

There was deafening silence. At least for a couple minutes. Trystan could hear the scratching noise again, but it was more subdued. And it was coming from his right.

He whipped around with his pistol drawn and ready fire when he caught sight of a mobain squirrel, dragging a long, sharp piece of crystal along the edge of one of the walls of the maze. He looked like he had seen better days, his uniform torn to shreds, yet there was something in his eyes that conveyed the impression he wasn’t done fighting yet. He came within fifteen feet of Trystan, stopped, and pointed the crystal shard at him.

“In the name of the Kingdom of Acorn, state your name and your leader, Overlander,” he demanded. His voice, though coarse, still commanded respect.

Trystan lowered his gun, but not too much as he replied, “...Trystan Cronus. I’m from New Pacific City, and we don’t have a leader. And by ‘we,’ I mean ‘me,’ because I’m all that’s left. I think the bigger question is, who are you?”

The mobain remained still, pointing his jury-rigged sword at Trystan before lowering it completely and placing his hand over his heart. “I am King Nigel Acorn the Third, the true ruler of Mobotropolis. And if you have any sense about you, you’ll-”

“Ah, so _you’re_ Sally’s old man...”

Trystan’s comment made Nigel choke mid-sentence. “H-how…? How did you…?”

He shrugged. “Long story short, I ran from New Pacific City, stumbled into Knothole completely by accident, now I’m trying to make Robotnik regret the day he was born.” He let his words sink in a minute before grinning. “You’re not gonna believe that story even if I showed you pictures, are ya, your majesty?”

Nigel placed his sword in an empty, jury-rigged sheathe on his hip and crossed his arms. His expression remained neutral, however. “I...am certainly having a hard time believing it, yes,” he mused. “But I suppose, in absence of a better explanation, I will have to go by what you say.”

“I do hate switching subjects so abruptly, but where _exactly_ is _here?”_ Trystan asked, spreading his arms out to indicate everything around them.

Nigel’s following sigh was tinged with regret, but he spoke evenly. “This is what Julian Kintobor dubbed ‘The Special Zone,’ a pocket dimension where the impossible occurs on a daily basis, and where he banished both myself and my court wizards.” Trystan was thankful that he’d been filled in properly about Robotnik’s coup by now. By the looks of it, pushing any more boundaries might either cause Nigel to break down in tears or worse yet, try attacking him. But the fact that Nigel had court wizards was an intriguing fact, and something he couldn’t help but ask about.

“Ah, yes. Walter and Wendy Naugus. They both served as advisors when no others were available, but after we were banished here, I quickly learned they cared not for me, only my throne. I’ve been avoiding them ever since.”

“You have my condolences, your majesty.” Trystan was about to bid him goodbye to continue searching for the others, but he suddenly heard odd footsteps, and it sounded like they were meandering through the maze. Trystan froze after pulling his gun up and whispered, “Sir...Did you hear that…?”

Nigel, to his surprise, cracked a small joke. “I might be getting old, but my hearing’s still far from gone, Overlander.” They both waited as the footsteps wove around, and then a voice came from the other side of a wall close by.

“Man, this is why I hate going through mazes.” Unmistakably Sonic.

Trystan approached the wall in a hurry and hit it a couple times, yelling over the top. “Sonic!? Sonic…!? Yo, can ya hear me, dude?”

On the other side, Sonic and Tails were both more than surprised to hear Trystan shouting at them. “Yo! Trys, holy crap! Where were you, man?”

“Doesn’t matter right now, just help me break this wall down!” he yelled again as he cocked his gun.

Sonic looked at Tails, who seemed to understand enough to back up. It was something he commanded Trystan to do, and he did so after putting his gun back into his holster and retreating a few steps. Nigel backed up as well, just in time to see Sonic spin dash through the wall, flinging crystal shards all over. Trystan and Nigel had to pivot around and crouch while covering their heads to be sure nothing got embedded into their skulls.

When the crystal rain had stopped, they both stood back up to see Sonic dusting himself off and Tails jogging through the hole in the wall. Nigel squinted at the both of them before smiling brightly and approaching them saying, “Sonic? Is that you?”

Sonic shook his head to move a couple loose quills out of his face. “The one and only...Hey, waitaminnit...King Acorn?” Sonic looked the deposed king up and down before tentatively saying, “Woah. I, eh, guess you’ve seen better days, huh?”

Nigel only laughed and quickly hugged Sonic. “By God, Sonic you’re quite the sight for sore eyes. And who’s this?” he asked as he looked down to Tails. “...Ah, you’re Amadeus’ son, correct?”

Tails, instead of affirming anything, looked down at his shoes and subconsciously wrapped his tails around his body. Sonic muttered, “He doesn’t like talkin’ about his parents. Robotnik ran’em through the roboticizer, sir.”

“Oh...I’m terribly sorry.”

After an awkward pause, Sonic shifted his attention over to Trystan. “Anyway...Trys! How’d you get here?”

Trystan crossed his arms like an incredulous housewife and started going off. “One, I got here by foot, genius, how else? And _two,”_ he marched a little closer and hissed in Sonic’s ear, “You are a goddamned **idiot.** What in God’s name were you thinking, just throwing yourself into a vortex of destruction like that?”

“Amy was in trouble! Ya know I couldn’t just stand by,” Sonic whispered back.

“There’s a million ways to go about rescuing someone, Sonic, and the idea you had was the last viable option on the list!”

Sonic’s temper flared up a bit. “Then tell me, Stonewall, what was your idea?”

“Don’t be a fucking idiot and think for a bit!”

“And then…?”

Trystan hissed again and tried to catch the right words, but logic simply failed him. He sighed in defeat and conceded, “Okay, okay, I’ll give you this one. We didn’t have many options. I just can’t believe Tails and Sally just followed you like lemmings.”

_“A-hem!”_

Trystan’s attention was drawn away from arguing with Sonic and over to Nigel, and by extension, Tails, who were staring him down. He remained silent for a moment before kneeling down and apologizing to both of them. Nigel didn’t seem too keen on accepting it, as he commented, “I could easily behead you in that position, Overlander.”

This made Trystan tense up and squeal a little bit, but Sonic stepped in front of him and chuckled. “Sorry, your highness. He’s not as much of a jerk as you may think he is...most of the time.”

“...Look who’s talking,” Trystan muttered under his breath.

“I will reserve judgement until I see it with my own two eyes,” Nigel commented. His expression quickly shifted to concern as he asked, “All that aside, how did you get here exactly?”

Sonic gave Nigel the whole story, from his perspective at least, and when he mentioned Sally had come along with them, the king insisted they go back out to find her, something everyone unanimously agreed with. Before they set out, Nigel explained something something pivotal: “Once we find both your friends, Sonic, we must come directly back here, and quickly. The Naugus Twins will follow us and find the Warp Pole, I’m certain of it.”

Sonic cocked his eyebrow. “Beggin’ your pardon, but what’s a Warp Pole?”

"In all honesty," Nigel elaborated, "it's hard to explain. Julian was looking into traveling to this zone before he betrayed me and I found one soon after I entered the Special Zone; I don't know if Julian was able to make any others, but the one I found is the only one like it for miles in this godforasken place. I only hope it truly is the only one of its kind...that way, if I destroy it, the Naugus Twins will never be able to enter the physical world again."

“Sire, I think he also meant ‘what does it do?’” Trystan cut in.

“They act as portals to and from The Special Zone. Activating one creates a dimensional door to the plane respective to the one the original Pole is on. It’s something your uncle was looking into before Robotnik seized power, Sonic.”

Sonic crossed his arms, and shook his head solemnly. “He sure never got to tell me about it…Gah! We’re wastin’ time! Let’s move!”

Trystan pulled out his keys to summon his cruiser, which made Nigel jump back from his sudden movements. He motioned to it with a small smile. “Your chariot, my liege.”

* * *

 

The castle garden was, despite not having any actual plants, breathtaking. Sally could remember, even with faded accuracy, which crystal represented which plant. The garden itself was actually raised off the ground, about one story up with a very large staircase descending to ground level.

She was busy marveling at all of it as King Nigel walked up beside her, and stood facing the same direction. “I, erm...tried to recreate it as accurately as this old memory of mine could manage…” he began.

Sally faced her father and smiled warmly. “It looks fine, dad. In a lot of ways...I think it looks better.”

He nodded with a small smile still on his face, but quickly turned his attention to Amy, who was standing off to his right and slightly further back. “And you!” he exclaimed, “You’re miss...erm…”

“I’m Amy!” she exclaimed, still wearing a smile on her face. “Sally’s told me a lot about you, your highness!” She quickly curtsied.

King Nigel chuckled. “Ah, I would expect nothing less.” He paused briefly before looking back at Sally and asking, “So, tell me...how exactly did you both _get_ here?”

“...Robotnik pulled out a new weapon on us,” Sally explained, gazing off to the horizon. “He called it the Zone Flux Cannon, and apparently, it can warp people directly here.” She waited, expecting an answer of “Oh, no,” or “That’s terrible,” but no such words came. Taking a glance over her shoulder at her father, he seemed to be stroking his chin, his eyes unfocused. “We...we weren’t the only ones who came through that portal either,” she added, hoping to illicit a response. “Sonic and a couple others came through too.”

The only answer he gave after some time was a muted, “I see…” Sally couldn’t help but cock her eybrow up at that.

There was a tangible silence hanging over the scene, only broken by Amy’s keen eyes when she saw, far, far off in the distance and well beyond the crystal garden, that something was approaching them. “Hey, look you two! Someone’s coming!” She clasped her hands together. “I bet it’s Sonic!” All three of them descended the massive staircase as fast as they could, at the behest of King Nigel. It became definite, as the figures in the distance got closer, that they were Sonic, Tails, and Trystan on his hovercraft, with someone riding with Trystan.

King Nigel marched past the girls to greet them with open arms. “Ah, Sonic the Hedgehog! It’s been such a long-”

He cut himself off and his eyes went wide when all four of them stopped a few feet in front of him. For some reason, there was an exact duplicate King Acorn on Trystan’s bike, and now it was obvious to everyone.

The second King Acorn who was covered in tattered rags as a stark contrast to the other, slowly stepped off Trystan’s bike. Trystan was glancing around, waiting for someone to explain just what was going on here; but nobody spoke for what felt like hours, until finally Sonic looked from one Nigel Acorn to the other and scratched his ears. “Somethin’ wrong here…” he muttered.

The more regal-looking king glanced from side to side, as if he had been suddenly trapped in a cell. This, understandably, made Sally somewhat concerned, though she had opted to back up a few steps. This was an arbitrary choice, but soon became a lucky one.

The well-dressed King Nigel suddenly straightened up, his hands curled tightly into fists, and he shouted, “Wendy! The jig is up!” His voice was now completely different than it had been moments ago, being high-pitched and coarse. Almost as quickly, he brought one of his fists down onto the ground, causing it to crack and explode outward. He became enveloped in bright white light.

“Woah!” Sonic doubled back with a couple dramatic flips before rolling out of it and running straight toward where the false king had just been. He was going too fast to react to someone materializing out of thin air and smacking him upside the head with some sort of cane. He grunted and quickly retreated back to where Trystan was, now frozen with shock and awe; on the other hand, Sally was frozen with more disbelief than anything else, and it took Amy grabbing her wrist as she ran by her and over to Sonic to get her to snap out of it.

Trystan was about to ask just what the hell was happening when his and everyone else’s attention was pulled back to the swirling lightshow in front of them. It had died down completely by now, and standing where the second King Nigel was, was Walter Naugus, along with Wendy to his right. Wally sported bat’s ears, a crooked nose, long white beard, and a crab claw for a left hand. Sonic only guessed that Wendy was the one who hit him with the staff she was holding.

The previous false king took a heavy step forward, a devious grin on his face. “My **king** ,” he spat. “So glad I’ve **finally** found you.”

Nigel gritted his teeth. “Go to hell, Naugus.”

Sonic, on the other hand only seemed to chuckle. “He-e-e-y, Wally and Wendy! Glad to see you two haven’t changed a bit,” he teased.

Wally’s face immediately contorted into an expression that oozed seething hatred. “Why, you smug little rodent…” he hissed, “You seem to forget that you’re in _our_ domain. You should at least have a little _respect.”_ _  
_

Sonic, in response, nudged a chunk of crystal that had come loose when Wally dropped his disguise. He poked it with his foot a couple times, before suddenly kicking it directly at Wally’s head, which landed with a _*thwok!*_

Wally screeched and Sonic ran directly at him, but was blocked by Wendy who quickly raised up the ground in front of Wally to shield him. Sonic veered right, but by then, Wally had recovered from the surprise and pointed his own scepter at Sonic. “See, I don’t think even your own _domain_ respects you!” Sonic jeered.

Trystan quickly looked over at Sally, who was mostly focused on Sonic and the Naugus twins. “How fast can you run, kid?” he asked urgently.

She swiveled her head around to face him and only thought for a second before answering, “Pretty fast, for not being Sonic. Why?”

“Gah...take the bike anyway,” he instructed, hopping off. “We gotta get back to your dad’s Warp Pole, like, right goddamn now.”

“Trystan, I don’t know how to use this thing!”

“Kid, all ya gotta do is push this button and turn this handle, and then drive like all hell’s on your ass!” he exclaimed. Sally hesitantly got on, although she did turn around to smile at her father.

He smiled right back. “Sally…! I’m terribly sorry, but I don’t get any chances to write to anyone outside,” he joked wearily.

She hugged him, tears starting to well up in her eyes. “I...I guess Robotnik throwing us in here wasn’t so bad after all, since I got to see you again.”

“And we’re gettin’ him out of here, too!” Tails added, pumping his fist.

“Not if y’all keep sittin’ around here, you’re not!” Trystan interjected. He pointed back in the direction they had come and yelled, “Get movin’!” He pulled out his revolver and knife and turned back around to face Sonic running laps around Wally and Wendy. He stalked forward as a predator stalks their prey before he got a hammer thrust in front of him. He froze and looked over to see Amy sporting an uncharacteristically serious expression.

“Not so fast, mister.”

“Amy, what the hell?” Trystan kept his gun raised and pointed at the commotion in front of them.

“Hey, I’m not normally the one to keep anybody out of a fight,” she began, “but I don’t think having you fighting _these_ two is a good idea.”

“Explain,” Trystan commanded, losing his patience.

“Well, you just saw Wendy, or whoever she is, raise up the ground in front Wally,” she said. “I don’t think you’re very well equipped to handle them is all.”

Trystan’s intense expression faded into neutrality as he deadpanned, “You have a hammer. A big hammer, I’ll admit, but it’s a _hammer.”_

“Trystan, I won’t stop you from staying behind either,” Sally interrupted, still trying to adjust herself on the bike’s seat, “But let me warn you that Walter and Wendy _are_ wizards. They can probably use spells that would make your weapons useless.”

“And considering they can manipulate crystal, you’ll always be treading on dangerous ground,” Nigel added.

It took Trystan a minute, but the longer he looked at his weapons, he quickly realized: “Goddamn. You’re right.” He took a few steps back and put away his knife. “You’ll be okay, though, right?” he asked Amy, and Tails, by extension (he knew the guy wouldn’t leave Sonic’s side come hell and high water).

Amy waved him away. “I’m not worried, and neither should you!”

Trystan paused before cracking a small smile. “Whatever you say, Amy.” He signaled to Sally to rev up the motor, which she did after fumbling with the handle on the bike a bit. It quickly sped away and Trystan ran after it yelling, “Okay, slow down a little, will ya?”

Wally had shot several crystal shards from his scepter at Sonic. All of them missed completely, no surprise there, and he was doubly surprised to get smashed in the side of his head by a now indignant Amy as she swung her hammer at him. Then, there was a sudden flash of ice-blue light and she ducked in just enough time to receive a glancing blow from another shard of crystal that was shot by her head

Wendy then struck her scepter into the ground, causing it to split open into a chasm directly under Sonic’s feet. He didn’t scream so much as yelp in surprise; in all honesty, he would have fallen to his death if Tails hadn’t swooped in and picked him out of the jaws of death

“Wendy! They’re getting away!” Wally raised his wand into the sky, and he suddenly turned into a crystal statue that sunk into the ground.

Wendy herself turned around to glimpse Trystan, Sally, and Nigel making a getaway on Trystan’s hoverbike. “Why those little…!” She too raised her scepter, and became a statue that melded with with crystalline ground.

Tails landed and put Sonic down on solid ground. Of course, they had seen everything the twins just did, and Sonic knew exactly where they were headed, so the second the tip of his shoe met the ground, he was off after the others. It took Amy and Tails a second to process where he was going before starting after him.

And of course, he made it over to the other three in record time, and managed to get in front of Trystan, stop, and start up again in such rapid succession that before he had time to notice he had tripped, Trystan was already holding onto Sonic for a high-speed piggyback ride.

It took Sally a second to notice the rest of her Freedom Fighters were keeping pace alongside the bike. “Guys…!”

“Heya, Sal!” Sonic winked at her, along with a thumbs-up. “We saw the two wizards make a run for it, and we’re pretty sure they’re comin’ after you,” he said.

“That’s not good,” Nigel muttered. “If they follow us to the Warp Pole, they might get out before we have a chance to close it!”

“Nah, you worry too much, your kingliness! We’ll be there in enough time to have a lunch break-god God, Trys, will ya stop squirming around so much!?”

Trystan was spitting needles out of his mouth and rocking his upper body back and forth. “I’d...fucking love to, Sonic, but...it’s kinda hard with your hair flying into my face!”

“Hey, careful with the language, we got a king, two girls, and a kid present!” Sonic chortled.

“That’s not helping!” he shouted.

Nobody got the chance to comment, as they heard a high-pitch cackle behind them, and they turned around to see Wendy jump out of the ground, brandishing her wand, and she pointed it straight at King Nigel. A crystal bullet shot out of the tip, but Sally swerved hard to the left to to avoid it. In response, Wendy, still high up in the air, shot an entire volley of shards down on them. “Fly, my pretties!” she shrieked with glee.

There was a lot of yelling coming out of the Freedom Fighters as they jumped, swerved and dodged around the barrage. Trystan took advantage of his perch on Sonic’s back to pull out his gun and shoot as many crystals out of the sky as he could, but it didn’t make much of a difference in the long run.

Nigel pointed forward, after ducking his head down to avoid a stray piece of crystal. “Keep moving! We’re almost to the Warp Pole!” Up ahead, just over the horizon, were the steep walls of the crystal maze he had hidden in for years.

“Trystan, how do I make this thing go faster?” Sally called.

After taking a random potshot at Wendy, and seeing her subsequently dive straight back into the ground, he replied, “Kick it! You literally just kick it!”

Out of nowhere, Wally appeared and flew out of the solid earth in front of them all. Sally shrieked and kicked the bike out of reflex, and it quickly shifted into its high-speed setting and almost instantly shot ahead of everyone else. Trystan groaned. “Sonic, I’m gettin’ off!”

There was a sudden surge as the ground under them began to buckle and shift as if under immense tectonic stress. Sonic was having a better time adapting to it than Tails and Amy. “You sure about that, buddy?”

“Not anymore, I ain’t!”

Sally, now a good yard or so ahead of everyone else, took a quick glance behind her to see Wally was busy putting the work on the other four. She would have been more worried, if she wasn’t trying to pilot a three-fifty pound death-missile. Sonic, of course, picked up the pace, with Tails and Amy right behind him. Trystan thought either Sonic was going slow to keep both of them close, or the two of them were faster than he initially thought.

They made it to the outskirts of the maze, and Sally yelped when she got too close one of the walls and instinctively pulled back on the handles. That was enough to stop the bike, and when Sonic and the others pulled up alongside them, they both jumped off. Sally looked a bit shaken by the whole thing.

“So, Sal...have fun?” Sonic chuckled.

**“No.”**

“Well, that’s weird,” Sonic scratched his chin while Trystan shut his car down. “Every time I pick you up and start runnin’, you don’t seem to mind.”

Sally was still breathing heavily. “That’s because I don’t have to _ride_ you!” Sonic’s grin got even wider and he raised his index finger up. “Don’t even think about it,” she muttered to shut him down.

Nigel remained unaware of Sonic and Sally’s exchange, and he motioned for everyone to follow him and do so quickly while Trystan choked and nearly lost his shit. They all hustled through the maze, Sonic breaking down a couple walls where it might cut down on their time, eventually reaching a dead end with a small cave carved into a wall on the right. Directly in front of them, however, was a metallic pole with a red bulb on top, marked with a star. “Here it is,” Nigel breathed a sigh of relief.

Tails immediately pushed through everyone else and went over to inspect it, while Trystan spun around, holding up his revolver. “Wow...how did this even get here, your majesty?”

Nigel strode up to the Pole as he explained, “I specifically remember Julian looking into finding ways to plant one of these posts as a failsafe for exiting the Special Zone. It seems he was successful, though he certainly never told me about it.”

Sonic was the next to walk up to the Warp Pole. He kicked it out of curiosity, but it seemed to cause the ball on top to spin around and light up. He was about to say, “Hell, that was easy,” when the wall the Pole was embedded into suddenly twisted around unnaturally, and a hole opened up in it, revealing a dark forest, swathed in night.

It got Trystan’s attention quickly enough for him to say, “Oh, now we’re talkin.’” And of course, as per Murphy’s Law, he took one step forward and was quickly pushed forward by Wally and Wendy, materializing out of thin air. They nearly trampled him as they barrelled toward the portal, shoving Tails, Nigel, Amy, and Sally out of the way. Sonic had spin-dashed his way directly into Wally’s stomach, knocking him backward, which left Wendy enough time to get through the portal.

“Hey! Get back here!” Amy shouted as she picked herself up. She charged forward, yanking her hammer out and taking a power swing at Wendy as she went through the portal. It hit her in the back, but after a second, she suddenly felt the wind taken out of her, and staggered, trying to stand upright.

Wendy cackled. “Now’s not the time to be getting tuckered out on me, dearie!” She leapt forward, trying to grab her. Amy had no choice but to backpedal.

Sonic threw a couple punches at Wally, but he was quickly deterred by a blast of invisible force. Trystan took this opportunity to scramble to his feet, and he picked up Tails and Sally. “You two okay?”

“Yep,” Tails affirmed.

“Just a little shaken.”

“Good!” Sonic called as he ran by, grabbing Sally’s hand. “Let’s go!”

Trystan and Tails made a beeline after him, and jumped out of the portal. They all walked a couple steps to see Amy and Wendy trying to steady themselves. Before any one of them could ask Amy what was happening, they all felt extremely weak. Even Sonic found it difficult to keep himself upright. “W...what the hell was that…?”

To answer his question, Wally stepped through the portal after shoving King Nigel back down to the ground as he tried to get back to his feet. “Spatial disparity,” he wheezed. “It only affects you, hedgehog, because you were so _rude_ enough to enter and exit the Special Zone in a timely fashion. For myself and my sister, however...we’ve had time to adapt.” He strode over to Sonic, and loomed over him, a toothy grin breaking his lips. He snatched Sonic up by his neck. “I’ll make this quick,” he mocked with a sneer.

Sonic, however, always being full of surprises, kicked Naugus right in the chest, causing him to recoil and scream, _“Garaagh!_ You disgusting little pest!” as he dropped Sonic. His screeching helped Trystan clear his head and focus, realizing he was facedown on the grass. He pushed himself over, and saw Tails helping Amy out, despite looking pretty green himself. Wally was fighting Sonic, Sally was reaching into the portal...he groaned. A nanomorphine shot probably wasn’t going to clear his head.

He was still weak from the system shock, but Sonic could still run fairly quickly around Naugus, a testament to his iron will. Sally saw them both start fighting again and forced herself to her feet. She had to take this chance; she jogged quickly but quietly back to the portal. Her father was still trying to get back up again. “Daddy!”

Nigel’s head shot up, and upon seeing his daughter, he scrambled to his feet.

“Walter!”

Wally looked over at his sister, pointing behind him. He didn’t need to turn around to know what was happening. He spun around and took aim with his scepter. “Not so fast, you royal brat!”

Sonic stopped trying to get Naugus’ attention as soon as he saw his wand brandished like a firearm. His heart skipped a beat and the instinctive side of his brain flew into action. “Sal, get down!”

He tackled her, and felt his quills stand on end as a blast of magic shot past his head. He tumbled and rolled over a couple times with Sally clutched tightly in his arms. They landed, and as Sally looked up, her heart stopped cold. The portal had been covered in crystal.

Naugus, on the other hand, hadn’t expected Sonic to get in his way so quickly, but then...this was the next best thing.

He sent a powerful beam of magic out of his wand, and when it met the crystal-covered portal, it shattered into a billion pieces. Nothing but thin air remained.

Sally's blood ran so cold she couldn’t even scream.

Time seemed to stop for a moment, but Naugus quickly shifted his attention to Sally. This gave Amy, who had watched everything go down, more than enough time to get her hammer back out.

“Do us both a favor, my dear,” Naugus said, approaching them. “Stand still and let me do my work. Your father’s never coming back now, so-”

He was cut off after being struck in the back by what he could only equate to a boulder made of plastic and rubber. It knocked the wind out of him, and he was fairly certain he heard his spine crack as he fell to the floor.  Infuriated, he tried to stand back up, but he felt his vision spiraling around and everything was shifting in and out of focus. Whatever had hit him had really done a number on his system, and this was no time to fight if he wasn’t at peak performance. He looked over at Wendy before raising his staff and turning himself into another crystal statue which crumbled into fine dust.

Wendy glared at the Freedom Fighters, but quickly smirked and brushed some of her hair over her shoulder. “Well, dears, I guess Walter doesn’t want to deal with you. Don’t worry,” she said as she held up her wand, “We’ll see each other again, you nasty little vermin!” Just like that, she had run away too.

Amy slowly made her way over to her precious Piko-Piko Hammer, lying on the ground where it had struck Naugus, and picked it up. Sonic pushed himself up off the ground and walked over to her, placing his hand on her shoulder. It made her flinch and squeak quietly.

“Way to go, Amy. Really came through for us right there,” he said, giving her a thumbs-up.

“Yeah,” Trystan chimed in, still laying on the ground, “Nice work, kid.” He pushed himself up to his knees, dusted himself off, and looked around the clearing for any other signs of life.

Sally, on the other hand, was curled up in a ball on the ground where Sonic had left her. She was visibly trembling, but there were no sounds to indicate she was crying. It was enough for Sonic and Tails to walk over, and Sonic put his arm around her shoulder. “Sal…? You...you doin’ okay…?”

She didn’t answer. Sonic picked his head up and looked around, then back to Tails. “Let’s go home.” Sally nodded and stood up, clutching her vest.

* * *

 

 

It took them roughly fifteen minutes to get well-enough acquainted with the land to know which way Knothole was, and then get there. When they arrived, everyone essentially split off, Amy and Trystan going to their respective homes, and Sonic walking Sally to hers. She said nothing on the way there, though they did run into Bunnie, and Sonic told her everything, since Sally was being uncharacteristically quiet. She walked up the steps to her home, with Sonic watching her closely.

“Hey...you’re gonna be okay, right, Sal?” he asked.

She stopped, and didn’t even turn to face him when she nodded. Sonic sighed and walked up the steps after her, placing his hands on her shoulders. “Hey, I know it hurts, Sal. Every time I see Unca’ Chuck working his rear off in Robotropolis, my heart sinks, too. But I know he’s alive, and now, you know you’re dad’s alive, too.” He leaned slightly over her shoulder. “That’s gotta be worth somethin’, right?”

Sally remained quiet for minutes, or what felt like minutes, before she spun around and buried her face in Sonic’s shoulder, crying her heart out.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy shit, I’m not dead! It’s amazing! Sorry about the long hiatus, had to worry about school on top of the fact that I got burned out on writing this story. But I’m back in the swing of it and should be able to write a few more chapters before my hype runs low and I have to force myself to continue.


	10. Overlander Hospitality

Year 3236, Day 142:

“Where eez zat man?” Antoine huffed as he tapped his foot.

Bunnie stifled a giggle. Despite not liking Sonic all that much, he could be just as impatient as him sometimes. Though, he did bring up a good point. Trystan hadn’t showed up for training again, and it was already half-past eleven. “Well, y’all wanna go’n look fer ‘im, ‘Twan?”

_“Oui!”_ he exclaimed, immediately pivoting and marching back to Knothole proper with his chest puffed out. “I shall be giving him, as zey say, a pierce of my mind!”

“Ah think y’all mean ‘piece’ a yer mind, An-twan,” Bunnie corrected.

“Bunnie, zat eez what I have just said,” he said as looked back at her, shrugging his shoulders. She only giggled in response.

They walked side by side all the way up to Trystan’s pad. The windows were dark, and as Bunnie squinted into one, she couldn’t see anything moving. “Shoot, ‘Twan, Ah don’t think he’s even here…”

Antoine slapped his forehead and groaned. “Zen where on zis planet could he be, hm?”

“Could be grabbin’ lunch,” Bunnie chuckled with innocent flair. “Lordy knows he needs his calories.”

* * *

 

 

Well, about seven minutes and no luck later after searching the lunch pavilion, Bunnie and Antoine tried the only place close by that Trystan could be: the kitchen, located just a hop to the east. The kitchen was more of a network of room s with cooking supplies in it than an actual kitchen, but it served well enough for the people who wanted to make their own food when the stuff in the mess hall got old. The two Freedom Fighters didn’t need to wander far to find who they wanted.

His blade sharp and his eyes lazily focused, Trystan struck a skinned carrot repeatedly, going horizontally and then vertically until it had been reduced to fine little cubes. It was a regular vegetable horror movie.

He picked up his cutting board and slid the diced carrot into a pot of boiling water before picking up two tomatoes and tossing them into a blender. He set it to “puree” and let the machine work its magic. As he went to grab a red onion amongst a larger group of vegetables he had laying on plastic on the side of his counter, he noticed Bunnie and Antoine standing in the doorway to his little work station.

He smiled weakly and motioned for them to come over as he started working his knife in circles around the onion. “Hey there, guys. Sorry, I meant to come over and tell you I’d be cookin’ something up, but that was after I had cut up a few veggies, and then, hey, stupid ol’ me remembered it again after I had the water boilin’ for five minutes, so…” He shrugged and quickly deposited a couple long strings of onion into the pot and leaned over it, taking a few good whiffs.

“Ah, that’s all over an’ done with, sugah,” Bunnie told him.

Antoine crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow. “If you’re still available in about...thirty to forty-five more minutes, I can still train,” he offered, checking his watch.

“Well, Ah’d hope ya’d still be willin’ t’fight, hun,” she instructed, coming closer to inspect Trystan’s setup.

Suddenly, there was a scent hanging in the air that reminded her of her parents’ garden back home. “Trystan, wat’ch y’all cookin’ up in heah?” she asked with mild interest.

He laughed. “I was hoping you’d ask!” He grabbed the tomato juice from the blender and poured the whole container into the pot and grabbed a spoon next to the stove and began to stir the contents moderately fast. The aroma changed from raw vegetables to something smoother, and far tastier.

It gave Bunnie a mild surprise. “Mistah Trystan, Ah do declare! Are ya’ll makin’ some sorta soup?”

Trystan looked over his shoulder, practically beaming with pride. “Yes, I am! It’s my mom’s own recipe. She taught it to me when I was about knee-high to a SWATbot!” he joked. “I’m honestly amazed I still remember the damn thing after not preparing it for so long…”

He pulled out the spoon and tested his concoction, muttering, “Needs more salt,” to himself. He sprinkled some salt out in his hand and tossed it into the pot as well. Although, the last thing he expected was Antoine to walked up to his opposite side and inspect his soup, on top of sniffing the air and giving _him_ advice on what to do next.

“Zee soup needs some baseel,” he said.

“The recipe don’t call for any basil,” Trystan retorted.

“Eet would be tasting much bettair with baseel,” Antoine rolled his eyes.

“My mom’s recipe uses salt and cumin, and salt’n cumin _only,”_ he retorted again.

“Monsieur Treestan,” Antoine began, “I ‘ave taken sevairal extensive cooking classes, and I pride myzelf on being able to tell what any given dish needs based on zee sense of smell alone. Zis soup needs some baseel.”

Trystan turned to face him with a hand on his hip and pointing his spoon at Antoine. It was close enough to poke his nose. “Ant, insultin’ a man’s soup is worse than insultin’ his mother, and insultin’ his _mother’s_ soup is a crime punishable by a swift kick in the ass.” He didn’t wait for a response, going back to stirring for a moment before he grabbed a chicken breast from a separate piece of plastic on the counter. “Jesus, next you’ll be telling me to add _butter_ when I should be using _margarine_ to spread on any dish involving scallops,” he chided as he pulverized the poultry.

Antoine retched and clutched his stomach, whispering, “Please be reminding me nevair to ask you to prepare any escargot…”

Bunnie turned to leave, wishing Trystan the best of luck, to which he responded in kind, and that he’d be out at the field soon. Antoine stuck around for a minute to scrutinize his cooking more, to which Trystan paid no mind.

“Heh. All _haute cuisine_ , no homestyle,” he said to himself after Antoine left.

* * *

 

The sun reached its zenith, but Sally still hadn’t worked up the guts to go outside and face reality. Which was a shame, because it looked beautiful; not a cloud to be seen in all directions. No, she only sat on her bed, staring at a picture at least seven or eight years old. Her father looked nearly identical to how he did the previous day, his moustache was only a little shorter. Her mother and brother probably looked a lot different now, considering they were about seven years dead.

She would have started crying for the second time today, but a knock at the door forced her to keep the tears back for a few minutes, at the least. She got up and trudged over to her door and took a few deep breaths. She was about to reach for the knob and open it when there came more knocking accompanied by a voice.

“Hey, kid, you in there? Holler if you are.”

The knob turned and the door creaked open. Sally was surprised to find Trystan standing outside her door with a bowl of what looked like soup, covered in plastic wrap. “Hey, Sally. You doin’ okay?”

“Kind of,” she muttered, rubbing her forehead.

“Well, hopefully this will help kill some of the pain,” he said holding out the soup bowl. “I know how it feels, losing loved ones like that, it...it killed me when I lost mine.”

Sally took the bowl after retracting once from it from the sudden heat. This was definitely an interesting gift. She smiled. “Thanks, Trystan. This...this means a lot.”

He winked. “It’s my mom’s special,” he confided, “It would probably taste better in colder weather, but I mean, I’d rather have it be hot outside than negative forty at _noon.”_

“Have to agree there,” she replied with a small chuckle. “Thanks again.”

“Fuhgedaboudit,” he said as he walked away, “It’s the least I can do. Needed the practice anyway!”

She shut her door and carried the soup over to a small table opposite the bed, then fetched a spoon from one of the several cabinets hung on the walls and sat down and threw the plastic wrap away. She dipped her spoon into the broth, slid it into her mouth, and quickly realized:

"Wow, this is really good."

* * *

 

Tails was busying himself in one of the few underground bunkers in Knothole that served as either a bombing shelter or radar station. It was his turn to monitor the sensory equipment, and he’d been at it for fifteen minutes without so much as a wild animal turning up. He was about to leave and get a quick snack when a blip finally appeared on the radar.

He leaned over and read over the data being streamed in by the sensors, and the more he kept reading, the less he understood. “...Why would there be a _box_ out there?” He punched in a few algorithms for the sensors, and it fed him a bit more detail on the object that had suddenly appeared. According to the data...

“And why...is it at least several yards off the ground?” he wondered aloud. His first thought was “it’s obviously a bomb,” which, while unlikely, was still within the realm of possibility. There was a chance that Robotnik would wear his patience so thin searching for Knothole he would simply start randomly bombing, but he was more sadistic than that. He would want to find Knothole’s location, keep it secret for awhile, then storm the place out of the blue and snatch up as many mobians as he could, run them through the roboticizer-

Rapid beeping from the radar brought Tails’ mind back from wandering. He smacked his head. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, Tails,” he muttered, looking back at the radar. The object had landed, and there was no explosion; that alone warranted an investigation.

He hopped off his chair and exited the bunker through a steel blast door and up a set of stairs that let him out of a small above-ground entrance. He took to the sky to make better time to the west entry point to Knothole, where the radar had picked up the unidentified object. He eventually made it to the limestone cliff that bordered the village and made a sharp turn upward, climbing the cliff by airway.

He stopped to catch his breath after he landed on the solid ground at the top, and immediately caught sight of a strange metal box, just like what his radar pointed out. It definitely didn’t belong to Robotnik, though; his insignia was nowhere to be found on it.

“That’s weird...maybe if I…” Tails picked up a nearby stick and cautiously tiptoed forward and poked the box once, then twice, then went on to touch it with his hand. Nothing happened.

“...That’s _really_ weird,” he mused. He walked up to the box and tried to lift it.

He was pretty sure one of his disks cracked and slid out of place.

Tails yelped and shot straight up, massaging his lower back, and he sighed. This was gonna be a real pain to get to the command center.

* * *

 

Rotor punched a few figures into one of the computers at Sally’s behest. “Hmm...According to this, if we had enough Chaos Quotient compressed into a singularity and then shot it out through a tachyon relay at a sufficiently high velocity, it _could_ release enough energy to shatter the dimensional walls and allow us to get into the Special Zone,” he explained.

Sally sighed and then suddenly punched the table she had been leaning on in frustration. “But the Rings we get from Chuck’s machine only have enough of that energy to supply Knothole with power. And that might be a lot of power, but I don’t think it’s nearly enough to punch holes in spacetime. Damn.”

They both remained silent, weighing their options, until Rotor suddenly perked up. “What if,” he began, “we supercharged one of the Rings instead?”

“How would we do that?” she replied.

“Well, we could try gathering up enough Rings in one place for a kind of physical power matrix... **or,** or...we could try hijacking power from the Grey Gardens generator in Robotropolis. That might be faster,” Rotor theorized. “I’ll have to talk to Tails and get his input.”

As soon as Rotor finished talking, someone knocked on the door. When Sally went to get it and opened it up, Tails himself was standing there, holding a giant steel crate of some sort, and it was obvious it wasn’t doing him any favors.

“Little...help…?”

Sally immediately gave him a hand carrying the box, and Rotor rushed over to assist as well. They heaved it on top of the table in the center of the room, the one Sally had been leaning on, and started looking over it. Rotor asked where Tails had found it, and he explained what he had seen during his shift behind the radar.

“...So then, I rushed over here, since I figured you’d want to take a look at it, Sally,” he finished.

“I’m glad you did, Tails,” she said, turning to look back at the box. “I wish I knew how to open it, though.”

Rotor, on the other hand, was eying the box carefully, scrutinizing every square inch of it. After a minute of this intense examination, and deducing it was harmless in this state, he touched a panel on the front of it.

In response, an antenna flipped up from a crease that ran vertically across the top of the box and rotated around while beaming out some sort of blue sensory matrix. Everyone yelped, jumped backward, and froze, but the antenna just as quickly went back down and some kind of recorder played the words, _“Area secure. Audio message playback...”_

Everyone heard the automated recorder inside the box start up and a mysterious man’s voice said, _“Blesse, is this thing on now? Am I recording…? Good.”_ He paused to clear his throat. _“Greetings to whoever finds this care package. I am the General Praetorius, head of the Filii Rubrum army, and you...you are the Freedom Fighters, if my intelligence branch is correct.”_

Everyone looked at each other with a mix of dread and shock. Were they going to have to deal with two opposing forces now? They had next to no information about this army.

_“It was brought to my attention that one of our kin has been brought into your midst,”_ he continued. _“But have no fear. We are not seeking retribution, nor his return to our fold. All we ask...all that we_ hope, _is that he remains alive.”_ The box suddenly split open, revealing some wiry comms devices all crammed together as if a toddler had gotten ahold of a jigsaw puzzle and was forcing the pieces into spaces that they wouldn’t fit into. _“As a gift of good faith, I’ve taken the liberty of sending you several dozen earpiece-telecomms, to use as you see fit. I promise you they will work just as well as the equipment we sent to the Cronus boy. From our family to yours...”_

_They had already sent equipment to Trystan?_ It would certainly explain where he got his grenade launcher from. Either way, Sally cautiously reached into the box and picked one of the earpieces out. They seemed to have been stripped of some of their protective shells, which was made obvious by the realization that they could now be manipulated into whatever configuration was needed to better fit the species of mobain wearing them. Awfully considerate, for an army of Overlanders.

_“Much like yourselves, this...Doctor Robotnik is our sworn enemy. He attacked our home without provocation and without warning. We would have been content to remain in the shadows, training ourselves for our planned seige of your capital city,”_ he continued, _“but once I found out that your resistance cell was active, I threw that plan out the window. On behalf of my people, I now seek an alliance.”_

“The _Overlanders_ want an alliance...?” Tails muttered.

_“Please consider it, at the least. And like all those before us,”_ the General concluded, _“Fight hard, die harder.”_ There was a long silence before the computer’s voice from before came up.

_“This is a prerecorded message. Do not respond.”_

So that was that. “Of all the weird things to happen today,” Sally said under her breath.

“Want me to tell Trystan his buddies sent us something?” Rotor asked.

Sally shook her head. “No, I’ll take care of it. You focus on filling Tails in on what you’re planning. I’ll go talk to him about all this.” She quickly stepped out of the command center and went to the training grounds, where she found him training with Bunnie and Antoine, and subsequently informed them of what Tails found. It also, of course, led into asking Trystan about this “equipment” he had received.

He told her about the message he'd received, but left out the part about blowing up an entire factory district against orders and said he found it while strolling outside in the Great Forest. White lies, considering she was already stressed out over her father.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit of a shorter “down-time” chapter, mainly because I’m about to dive into one of the more complex story arcs I’ve come up with. Hopefully it’ll turn out at least half as good as I planned it. Keep your fingers crossed.


	11. Antithesis

The smog in the air seemed thicker and heavier today, for some reason. Maybe it had rained while they were in the Special Zone, Sonic didn’t know. All he knew was the blur of buildings moving past him, as well as SWATbots and robians whipping their heads around and watching him fly by, and Tails was keeping time with him exceptionally well. He got a bit more careful of his positioning the closer he got to the Grey Gardens, since being within even two miles of the old royal palace would raise alarms everywhere. He clicked his earpiece. “How’s it hangin’ back there, Tails?”

“I’m doing fine, Sonic,” he answered.

They took a sharp left into an alley that used to lead straight to the northern city square. Back in the day, it was a lively, open place with a fountain built by the first king who founded Mobotropolis. Now, as he looked out of the alley after a couple minutes of walking, there were towering structures built up around the center, and Robotnik had even leveled the fountain. It had been replaced with a bronze statue of him stepping on a faceless mobain while he held up a torn flag of the old kingdom as a direct mockery of his enemies. Sonic could only smirk.

“Jeez, Buttnik, if you’re gonna make a mocking statue, at least do it _after_ you’ve killed us off for good.” He rushed through the opening and spun his way into the statue, leaving a heavy dent in Robotnik’s metal head. “Oh, wait,” he said sarcastically as he turned to face Tails, “I forgot. Ya _can’t.”_

Tails chuckled, and Sonic laughed to himself and ducked into a nearby manhole, landing back in the toxic-as-all-hell sewers. He leaned himself up against the pipeline wall as Tails landed behind him, and a couple minutes before he heard footsteps coming from down the hall. Around the corner emerged Sally, Rotor, and Bunnie. They had all taken the sewers to avoid being seen, but Sonic, like with many things, preferred to go his own way. Just getting to this point via an underground sewer system would have been too easy, and definitely not as exciting.

“What took ya so long?” he joked, winking to them all.

Bunnie playfully put her hands on her hips and Rotor chuckled, shaking his head. Sally ignored his antics, as she had brought out Nicole and was busy pressing keys. After a moment, she put Nicole away and motioned for everyone else to follow her. “The fastest way to the main battery is this way, come on!”

“Let’s go, l’il bro!” Sonic ran ahead of Tails, and Bunnie and Rotor followed them. They wound through the sewers, ducking through the vents of an underground facility as fast as they could to avoid being seen.

Sally walked a few more paces, then stopped in front of another ventilation grate. She looked down at Nicole once, then kicked the grate down. It fell over and clattered on a metal walkway inside a gigantic cylindrical shaft, the walls pockmarked by some sliding doors and more walkways that seemed to spiral up indefinitely. God only knows how many other SWATbots were patrolling those catwalks. She went left and instructed, “Come on. We’ve got to go deeper into the citadel.”

They hadn’t been this deep in enemy territory in a long time. Their first excursion had been to sabotage the same main battery they were searching for now. The plan had been to lock it down and keep it shut off for three days while they fought against Robotnik, but his digital anti-hack system had not only blocked the attack, but also nearly locked them in one place. The Freedom Fighters lost a lot of their numbers that day.

Tails shuddered as he looked down the gigantic hole in the middle of the citadel. “This place always gives me the creeps…”

“Then stay close, Tails,” Sonic told him.

Sally had taken a few extra steps ahead of everyone else and looked into a corridor to the side. A soon as she poked her head around the corner, she immediately retracted and pressed herself up against the wall, as did everyone else when they realized what her actions implied. Two SWATbots came out and Sonic immediately spun right into them, and they were trashed before they could react. The group ducked into the door the two robots had just exited, and they ran down the hallway until they got to an elevator.

Sonic stood by the panel on the wall and asked, “Floor, please?” with a big grin.

“We need to go down eleven more floors,” Sally instructed.

“Goin’ down!” he said as he nudged the corresponding button with his elbow.

The doors closed and everyone felt the ground below them start dropping quickly. Robotnik had designed these elevators for efficiency and not comfort, since it went fast enough for everyone to feel their insides rising as the elevator fell. In due time, about a couple minutes at most, the elevator stopped, which did cause Sonic, Tails, and Rotor to stumble a bit from the jerky motions.

“Man...I’m gonna have to file a complaint about uncomfortable work conditions when this is all over,” Sonic groaned.

As they all cautiously exited the elevator, Rotor muttered, “Wish I still remembered how to get around this place.”

“Don’t worry about it, Rotor,” Sally said. “Sometimes, I want to forget we ever came down here before.”

The floor they had landed on was covered in ventilation shafts and a few dozen security checkpoints. They were all locked and booby-trapped. This included the vents. The first obstacle the Freedom Fighters had to get by was the next stretch of the hallway, which was covered in sensor lasers.

“Those lasers will definitely raise the alarms,” Sally whispered.

Sonic scoffed. “You’d think Buttnik would’a installed something I’d have _trouble_ getting past by now.” He jogged forward, then jumped up and over a few of the lasers. Hitting the ground, he rolled forward a couple feet, then pushed off again to somersault gracefully over more of them, then ran across the walls in a loop-de-loop and made it out the other side. He pivoted and bowed.

Sally shook her head and followed him by kicking off of one of the walls to get past the first few sensors. She landed and immediately swung her upper body down and around one of the lasers that was directly in front of her, then cartwheeled between a couple more and vaulted out of the hall. After doing a quick scan of the walls, she could see a control panel that almost definitely connected to the sensors, and she quickly pressed the “Deactivate” button on the panel.

Apparently, Robotnik was so blindly convinced that the traps down here were so hard to bypass, he didn’t need to install the proper security measures around their controls. Sally knew that arrogance would be his undoing one day, but until then, it was all about the small victories.

The group continued on through a large chamber with numerous coolant tubes, no doubt meant to keep the central battery working. It was highly likely that Robotnik had more than enough tubes installed to keep it from overheating, but he must have wanted to be on the safe side. This tunnel, according to the schematics of the citadel, had multiple copies all around the floor the main battery was situated on.

They bypassed more traps, namely a room with pressure plates that caused spikes to shoot out of the floor. It took some deduction, but Tails found the safest path around it. Then there came a couple patrols of SWATbots; they snuck by one and trashed two more they crossed.

And then, finally, the big, stainless-steel door. Sally ran up to the far right side of it and took out Nicole, aiming one of her sensors at the wall. “Nicole, scan for any hidden door controls,” she instructed.

“Got it.” She went quiet for awhile as Rotor walked up to them and pulled out a laser drill. After a couple minutes, Nicole’s main screen lit up. “Right here, Sally.”

“Rotor?”

“Say no more.” Sally shuffled over to let Rotor do his work. He positioned the drill, pulled the trigger, and the nozzle of the drill shot out a bright red laser. He moved it forward slightly, then traced a large circle out of the wall; behind it was a small panel.

Sally immediately went back to her previous position after Rotor stepped back and began fiddling with the wires around the panel.

After about a minute and nothing going on, Sonic coked his eyebrow. “Sal? Mind explaining what you’re supposed to be doing to that door?”

She was about to tell him she was busy, but Tails came in to explain instead. “That panel hooks into a sensor over the door that reads everything in front of it for anything that denotes it serves Robotnik. In order to get the door to open, we’ve got to manually override it.”

“How come this is taking so long then?” Sonic asked.

“Well,” Tails continued, “If Sally pulls the wrong plug, the alarms will go off.”

She sighed. “Kind of trying to concentrate over here, guys.”

“Take yer time, Sally-girl.”

It took a few more minutes on bated breath, but the door eventually slid open as an automated voice droned, _“Access granted.”_

“We’re in,” Sally whispered. The Freedom Fighters made their way forward through more corridors that were only dimly lit by red lights that blinked rather infrequently. It seemed that after their failed sabotage, Robotnik had felt confident enough to lay out so many traps closer to the battery. It made her think they would have been safe for Trystan, Antoine, and Amy.

Of course, calling them now would be more of an inconvenience to both sides.

They all stopped at another large, stainless steel door. “Here it is,” Rotor said.

“If we have to go through another hacking session, I might go stir crazy,” Sonic mumbled. Tails, however, took a tentative step forward, and the door, in response, split apart and opened.

Behind it was a gigantic room, and judging by its placement and location, it was the very bottom of the cylindrical shaft they had left minutes ago. Inside it was a giant pointed structure made of more steel and rubber. It was a cylinder as well in order for it to fit inside the hole, though its dimensions were slightly smaller than the walls around it to allow for walkways that were most likely built for maintenance. The central structure itself seemed to have glass conductors attached to it that emitted sky-blue light.

They wandered into the room in full, and everyone was taken back with the sheer majesty of what lay in front of them, save for Sally. They had been driven back easily when they tried the direct approach, and never got to see what the main battery looked like. Tails flew up to one of the higher walkways to get a closer look at the tubes emitting the blue light. Sally, on the other hand, looked around and made her way over to a door that no doubt led to a control room lying beyond some one-way windows a few feet above them when she caught sight of it.

This control center only had a couple seats in it, and one was in the center of the room and was far larger than the others; definitely belonged to Robotnik. She made her way to the large control board set up against the windows and set Nicole down on it. “Nicole, can you get me into the system?”

“Give me a minute…” Nicole’s main screen started flashing every now and then. It took so long that the other Freedom Fighters wandered in after they had sufficiently sated their curiosity. Sally did take notice of this and tentatively called Nicole’s name. “Sorry, Sally. Robotnik set up a...surprisingly comprehensive firewall. Every metaphorical door I’ve opened just leads to two more closed ones,” she explained.

“...That’s not good,” Tails whispered. “We might not be able to open up the battery to charge the Power Ring”

Sonic huffed and swung the backpack he had been carrying off his shoulder and checked inside it to make sure the Power Ring he had picked up was still there. He looked back out at the battery and left the room just to keep himself moving. He walked in front of the battery and began pacing.

After awhile, he felt his quills standing on end. Sonic perked up at this and looked over his shoulder at the towering generator. He scowled...then took a few steps back. He felt his quills slowly falling back into place. It took another second before a smile crept across his face. **“Bingo.”**

Everyone was puzzling over how to get beyond Robotnik’s firewall when Sonic raced back in, and everyone recoiled when he shouted, “Hey, guys, I got an idea!” Before anyone could even ask what he was planning, he added, “I’m gonna throw the Power Ring I got right at the battery and see if it works!” and he ran back outside.

“Sonic…!” Sally’s voice was already out of earshot for him, so she instructed Tails, “Go stop him!”

Tails nodded and flew back out the door, along with the other Freedom Fighters. Sonic had vaulted up a few of the walkways to close to the top of the generator. Tails called out to stop him, which he did after turning around in surprise and shrugging after he yelled back, _“Now_ what?”

“Simple,” Sally called up from a catwalk below them. “If you touch that thing, it might set off the alarm. It’s got built-in sensors that can tell who or what touches it!”

“Well, we’re certainly not getting anywhere by _hacking_ into this thing, are we?” Sonic’s quills were, by now, standing almost perfectly straight. Tails and Bunnie were having the hardest time trying not to laugh, and Sonic either didn’t notice or didn’t care.

Sally sighed. He did have a point. The longer it took to get into the generator’s systems, the more at risk they were when the eventual patrol/maintenance crew got in. “Sonic, wait for a minute.” She went back to get Nicole and came back out, making her way up to where Sonic was, leaning against the rail and tapping his foot. “Okay, we can go through with this.”

Sonic had to do a double take. “Really?” he asked with mild surprise.

“Yes, but only because I have our exit planned out if things get hairy,” Sally told him. She then took a step back and motioned to the generator. “Go for it, Sonic.”

* * *

 

 

The graphs and charts on the main screen were running nominally. No interference. No sudden alarms. Robotnik eased back into his throne and sighed. “Ah...Snively, I don’t think I’ve ever felt this _content_ since I first dethroned the old man.”

Snively chortled to himself as he worked away on the computer. “Sir, isn’t being content going against your own laws?” he questioned.

Robotnik retained his smile, but as he looked down on his nephew it seemed to grow more sinister. “Don’t be _wise_ with me, Snively,” Robotnik warned. “You’re already cleaning my antique collection. I don’t believe you’d enjoy scrubbing my throne room down, too?” The sudden destruction of the Auto-Dusters had gotten him briefly upset after they exploded on launch, but considering the Freedom Fighters were basically dead without their most prolific members anyway, he marked it off as a minor setback.

Snively was about to grovel and beg not to be put to more work when the whooping of an alarm started going off. It was accompanied by the lights fizzling out and leaving everything in the citadel on backup power.

For a second, Robotnik felt a pang of fear, which was quickly replaced by livid anger.

**“Snively...!”**

He shrieked and dared not to turn around. “Y-y-y-yes, s-s-si-sir…?”

**“What** is happening to the main generator!?”

Snively brought up another screen on the wide monitor with a small, “L-looking right into it, Doctor Robotnik!”

The charts that appeared after Snively said that did not bode well. All of them pointed to the power in the battery being drained. It wasn’t an overwhelming loss...but still significant enough to warrant looking into. “Snively, get the hidden cameras up and running!”

Snively did as he was commanded, and another screen appeared on the main monitor. Robotnik slowly got up off his throne and paced forward, eyes transfixed in disbelief. The Freedom Fighters were back in action, standing around the main battery, with Sonic and Sally still very much alive. He believed Sonic was holding a Power Ring against the battery and draining it that way.

“God... **damn it,** Snively!”

With a mighty heave and downward punch, he dented the metal of the control panel he was leaning on. “They were supposed to be _dead!_ I saw it with my own two eyes! How!? _How_ did they escape the Special Zone!?”

He collapsed over the dashboard, but before Snively could say anything, Robotnik straightened himself up and cleared his throat. “Well...I suppose this isn’t a _complete_ loss,” he muttered.

Robotnik grabbed a detachable microphone from the control panel and pivoted, stretching out his arm with his hand vertical and palm facing inward. “Attention! The Freedom Fighters have cornered themselves in the main generator level! Send all available forces to subdue them, but bring me the princess and Sonic alive! I have _plans_ for them now…”

* * *

 

 

The sound of the alarms was echoing down through the main shaft of the citadel, so it didn’t take long for Sonic and the Freedom Fighters to converge on one spot to bolster their defenses. This spot was mainly around Sonic, who still had his hand pressed up against the battery, and the Power Ring by extension. “Tails…?” he called, “When’s this freakin’ thing gonna be done cookin’?”

Tails was looking at Nicole’s screen, with Sally glancing over his shoulder, to gauge how fast the Ring was absorbing power. “I think it’ll only be a couple more minutes, Sonic!”

_“Alert. Alert. Resistance has been detected. All forces are to converge on the central generator of the citadel, and proceed to wipe any detractors encountered.”_

“I don’t think we have a couple more minutes, Tails!” Sonic called, looking up the shaft of the building. There was only the alarms blaring for a moment before the doors on both sides of the battery opened up and SWATbots began spreading out through them to cover ground.

They took positions behind cover, whether it was the guard rails of the lower walkways or sticking close to the main battery, and then some of them began to climb the catwalks up to the Freedom Fighters. Both sides had a disadvantage: the Freedom Fighters had to stay in one place in order to charge the Ring, and the SWATbots couldn’t use laser beams in case they hit the central battery too much and caused a meltdown.

Bunnie looked over the railing from where she was to catch a SWATbot running up to the catwalk stair below her. It looked up, stared, then jumped up and latched onto the rails. She screamed and punched it in the face with her metal arm, sending it clumsily back down to the ground level. “Sugah, y’all might wanna hurry it up ovah there!”

“Tails! Is this thing done yet!?”

Tails was still hunched over Nicole’s screen, muttering to himself. “Four...three...two…”

A SWATbot emerged from around the corner. Sonic wanted to go kick it down, but he was the only one who could hold the Ring in place without a massive backlash of energy. Sally intervened instead, as she charged forward and kicked the robot off the catwalk. From around the bend, she could see a small battalion of SWATbots moving in.

“Tails…!”

Nicole’s screen flashed green. “It’s done, Sonic! Throw it!”

Sonic was about to ask, “Why?” when he saw Sally running back around the corner with a couple dozen SWATbots on her tail. Acting on instinct, Sonic chucked the Power Ring as hard as he could at the leading SWATbot.

Before the Ring even made contact, it exploded in a yellow flash of light. Sonic and the others could feel some sort of force push them back slightly, which must have been the reason the SWATbots near the Ring got thrown backward, and if not off the walkway entirely, they ended up on top of each other in a mess of parts. The Ring itself had nearly tripled in size, about large enough for a grown mobian to walk through, and had changed from yellow to hot white. Its center was host to a kind of pool of reflective glass.

It didn’t take Sonic long to figure out that it was now some sort of a gateway. He grinned at Tails. “I don’t know how you knew that’d work, but buddy, I’m glad you did!” Sonic grabbed him by the wrist, then grabbed Sally, and charged forward and into the Ring, disappearing into the pool of glass with a ripple.

Bunnie and Rotor looked at each other after he muttered, “I...didn’t think it would work like that or even that well…” to himself, and then quickly ducked through the Ring’s center as well before even more SWATbots could encroach on their position.

The Ring then quickly shrunk and disappeared in a small twinkle of white light as a few more SWATbots ran up and tried to snatch it unsuccessfully.

Robotnik had watched the whole thing unfold on the security cams, and punched the place he had dented before, this time his metal left arm going clean through the steel finish.

Snively recoiled and yelped, cowering down to stay out of the way of his uncle’s wrath. Robotnik screamed to high heaven before slamming both his hands down on the control panel. There was a tangible silence hanging in the air before Robotnik picked his head back up, covering his eyes in his palm as he leaned over. “If this keeps up, Snively, I may die of a heart attack before I do the hedgehog in.”

“In that case, death by heart attack is certain,” he muttered. He looked back at Robotnik to see one red eye boring into his soul.

“You have three seconds to get out of my sight and go do something _useful,_ Snively.”

Snively didn’t need to be told twice, and promptly bolted for the door.

* * *

 

 

The Ring had opened up into a small forest clearing, during what seemed to be dusk, clouds obscuring the sun. Everyone spilled out of the portal, and the Ring shrunk back to its normal size before falling to the ground.

Everyone took a breather; while Bunnie, Rotor, and Tails sat down, Sally, of course, walked around where they were to gauge where they had landed. She thought the trees around them looked very familiar, anyway. Sonic was waiting for her to finish scouting, and for the others to get their second wind. Eventually, he got too impatient, and walked over to Sally.

“...Are you sure about that, Nicole?”

“According to all my calculations,” Nicole replied, “This is geographically where Knothole should be.”

Sonic leaned over her shoulder. “There a problem, Sal?”

Sally sighed. “At this point, I really don’t know.”

“Thought I heard somethin’ about Knothole,” Sonic mentioned, pointing to Nicole.

In response, Nicole explained, “Yes, you did. Sally asked me to triangulate our position using a map of Mobius, and our current environment as reference. By those calculations, we should be standing right on top of Knothole.”

Sonic looked up at the empty tree branches above him. “We sure are standin’ on a whole lotta nothing.”

“I can only figure we got thrown so far back in time that Knothole doesn’t exist yet, or so far forward that it’s been ground into dust,” Sally muttered with a shiver.

Tails, after stretching his back and waiting for his heart to slow down, walked up to them both. “Actually, we’re not lost in time,” he articulated. “More like ‘lost in space.’ The Ring was powered up with so much energy, on top of the Chaos Quotient it already has, that once thrown, it was able to use the kinetic energy to kick-start a reaction that punched a hole in spacetime. Although,” he said, looking around, “I think it needs even _more_ energy to punch into the Special Zone.”

“In that case...where are we, man?” Sonic asked.

“Wish I knew,” Rotor called, standing back up. “But the Ring won’t activate now unless we let it recharge, or we find a way to manually power it up again.”

Sonic exhaled impatiently and jogged forward. “Well, no sense in stayin’ here anymore! Let’s move!”

So he led the way out. Scaling the limestone cliffs on the outskirts was much, much harder without any pre-installed measures to scale the cliff faces, but they made it through natural acrobatics, and some help from Tails when needed. The Great Forest itself, it really was that, was just like the one they remembered, if not thicker in some places. “It’s like it hasn’t even been touched...” Sally commented to herself. It took twenty minutes of on and off travel time, and eventually, the group caught sight of the edge of the forest. It was a welcome sight, until they saw what was lying in wait outside it.

They all climbed over a few fallen tree trunks and found a city set right in front of them. Its spires and towers rose hundreds of feet in the air, and all of them seemed to share the same kind of grey coloration, with neon lights dotted about on the sides of skyscrapers.

“It... _looks_ like Mobotropolis in its heyday…” Sally whispered.

“I’ll bet it ain’t, though,” Sonic deadpanned.

* * *

 

When they had made it into the city limits, they all noticed that there were few mobians (flesh and blood mobians, no less) on the streets, and the ones that were outside wore simple clothes. On top of that, when they saw the Freedom Fighters coming, they quickly turned around and ran in the opposite direction.

Sonic had gotten fed up with seeing two groups of mobians run away already, and had tried to catch a porcupine before he could shut himself in his house. It didn’t work, and Sonic remained in the front of the apartment building he had ducked into, scratching his head. “God, and I thought _I_ ran fast,” he said upon meeting up with the others a few steps away.

Bunnie nudged Sally. “Sugah, wha’ do ya suppose is goin’ on here?”

“No idea. Our best bet is to get to the castle,” she replied, trying to smother her anxiety. She added “If it’s still even standing…” under her breath.

They wove around the city, almost got lost, and then made it to the city square. Sally was almost mortified to see the statue of her father with its head missing. It seemed to be made of silver instead of gold, for some reason, unlike the one she remembered from all those years ago. They continued south from the plaza, in between darkened alleys. Despite nothing attacking them, they all felt varying degrees of disturbance, heightened by the wind whistling down the streets. Even the sight of the royal castle was unnerving.

Sally fidgeted, raising her shoulders up as she took the castle in. The preliminary walls were taller, and the lack of bricks made it near impossible to climb, instead being made of metal painted to look like stone. All gates inside were closed, and she could see some of the windows had been replaced with different designs. What they were, she couldn’t tell from here.

Sonic looked over his shoulder. “Tails…?”

“On it, Sonic.” Tails jumped and flew up and over the walls, and everything was quiet for a moment before a gate to their left was cracked open. Tails was pushing against it as hard as he could, and Rotor pulled the door from the outside to pry it open far enough that everyone could scramble through. The castle gardens looked almost the same as they did before Robotnik’s takeover, if not for a few slight rearrangements. But as Bunnie looked up at the castle windows and balconies, her eyes suddenly got wide and she suddenly grabbed Sonic’s shoulder.

“Woah! What’s caught your eye, Bun-”

She abruptly grabbed his head and tilted it up. Sonic exclaimed, but after a minute of looking at a dark window, he scrunched up his face. Bunnie must have been in shock or something, because she said, “Ah...Ah could’a sworn Ah saw somethin’ in that window…” breathlessly.

“We’ll keep our eyes open then,” Sally reassured her. They marched forward, toward the entrance doors to the main antechamber.

High up in a dark window, a figure cloaked in shadow slunk between the walls.

The doors were made with the same chiseled marble and steel Mobotropolis had been known for. Rotor strode up to them and clutched one of the bars, and pulled with all the might of every fiber of his body. After struggling for two minutes, he leaned over on the doors and sucked in air. “They won’t open,” he muttered after he got his breathing in check.

“No prob. We’ll get in through a window,” Sonic half-joked. He was about to wander around the castle and act on his idea when the doors...just swung open by themselves.

Everyone took a few cautious steps back. “Wha’ do y’all suppose that was?” Bunnie whispered.

“...I don’t know, Bunnie,” Sally whispered back. They remained still for what felt like hours, but Sonic and Sally eventually fell in stride together, with Tails directly behind them, and Bunnie and Rotor in back.

The foyer was very much the same, at least by everyone’s memories of the castle. There weren’t as many decorations, and the walls were missing the crest of the Acorn family, but other than that, everything seemed normal.

But Sonic was the first to notice something in the hall ahead, which was, coincidentally, the throne room. It was a long stretch of the building, separated into two floors with a high, arching ceiling. There were marble walkways to mark the second floor, and stained-glass windows lined each side of the room, with two wrought iron doors near the end of the hallway under the catwalks. In the back was the throne itself, situated under a massive, circular stained-glass window depicting a sword and a staff intersecting an acorn, surrounded by golden olive leaves.

In the throne sat a mobian dressed in a white and blue military uniform, almost like the ones footsoldiers were commissioned in the Great War. She slowly looked up at the party approaching her. When she stood up everyone froze.

Her auburn hair and facial markings made her look almost identical to Sally, if not for the fact her hair was more unkempt.

She sneered. “Hmph. Looks like I’ve got trespassers in my-”

When she got a good look at the group in front of her, she stopped cold, looking them up and down. She would have asked, “How the hell did you all change clothes that fast?” but the fact that she could see her spitting image with them debunked the notion her team had changed clothes.

So she asked the next best thing. “Who the hell are you?”

Sally took a step forward. “I could ask the same,” she stated.

The woman shrugged after a pause. “If you kneel, it won’t matter anyway.”

Sonic took a couple steps forward and leaned on Sally’s shoulder. “Gimme three good reasons why, missy.”

Her attitude did a complete heel-turn in the span of two seconds. “‘Missy!?’” she shrieked. “How _dare_ you! I’ll give you _one_ good reason! I’m the queen of Mobotropolis, that’s why!”

Bunnie put her hands on her hips and said, “Honey, y’all’re actin’ more of a brat than a queen.”

The “queen’s” pupils shrunk and she reached behind her back, pulling out an ebony whip and snapping it in the still air of the throne room in one swift move. It definitely got everyone’s attention, but before she could crack it again, a sickly smooth voice spoke up from up on the right balcony.

“Woah there, sweetheart. Somethin’ tells me these pikers don’t know the skinny.”

What jumped down was...Sonic. Sonic, in a tacky leather jacket and black jeans. The doppelganger took one look at the group, made a mildly surprised “ooh” exclamation, and strode up to the real Sonic.

He gave him a once-over and turned around. “‘Ey, Alicia! I think this thing’s a walkin’ funhouse mirror!” He looked back at Sonic, whose face was a mixture of confusion and loathing. “‘Cept this mirror just shows you what you’re gonna look like when you get old and fucked up,” he mused.

Sonic, despite being rubbed the wrong way at first glance, chortled a bit. He brought his hand up and plucked a quill from the doppelganger’s head in a split-second and looked it over, his double yelling “Ow!”

“I dunno, pal. This thing looks pretty grey to me,” he mockingly observed.

“Why you…! Who do you think you are!?”

Sonic rubbed his nose. “I _think_ I’m Sonic the Hedgehog. The real question is, who are you?”

The doppelganger took a couple surprised steps back, but looked around at the mobian on the throne...then laughed.

“Well, I’ll be damned!” he crowed. “Alicia! _That’s_ why they ain’t heard of us! I guess all Miles’ crackpot theories were right!” Everybody else was too stunned to ask what was going on, which gave the other hedgehog ample time to nod his head and continue, “Name’s Scourge the Hedgehog. And this over here is my sweetheart, Alicia.” She only cracked her neck in response.

Rotor leaned over and whispered to Tails, “So, is this like, the ‘Reverse Dimension,’ or something?”

“All signs point to ‘yes,’” he whispered back.

Rotor exhaled deeply. “Should’ve just built a Ring matrix and a giant laser.”

Sonic nudged Sally. “Hey,” he muttered, “I don’t think we got anything else to see here, do you?”

“No,” she replied.

“Good.” Sonic passed her the Warp Ring behind his back. “Tell me when it’s charged. I’ll buy us time, just in case.”

Sally looked over at him, but activated her earpiece anyway. “How are you gonna do that?”

“Relax, Sal. If anyone knows me better than me, it’s me.” Sonic took a couple steps forward, a sly grin on his face. “‘Scourge,’ huh? That your nickname? Sounds pretty edgy.”

Scourge’s grin quickly deformed into an unamused frown. “For being just like me, you sure as hell ain’t gettin’ on my good side, I’ll tell ya that much.”

“Y’know, I don’t get on many people’s good side anyway. Maybe it’s my attitude, but I know it ain’t my looks,” he shot back.

Scourge scowled and stomped up to his double. “Oh, you think you’re hot shit, dont’cha? You may look like me...but I know you’re not even _half_ as great.”

Hook, line, and sinker. “In that case, ‘Scourge,’ how ‘bout a race?”

Scourge paused for a moment, then smiled. “Now you’re speakin’ my language.” He took a couple steps backward, and made one last once-over of Sonic, noting the earpiece and his clothes. He nudged Alicia and winked at her. “How ‘bout three laps around the castle? Winner gets bragging rights,” he declared.

Sonic chuckled and cracked his knuckles. “Let’s party.”

Scourge didn’t even wait to see Sonic start moving, immediately charging forward and through him and the other Freedom Fighters. He made his way out the front gate, and Sonic watched him rush by for a second before chasing after him. They got out and into the courtyard, Sonic lagging behind Scourge slightly. “Not one to play fair, huh?”

“Nah. It’s not as fun!” Scourge taunted.

Sonic grinned. “Just gonna make it all the more satisfying to beat’cha.” He picked up his pace and caught up to Scourge. They were neck-and-neck for a moment, but Sonic still got past him eventually.

He scoffed. “Thought you’d take a hint, bluey.” He jumped up, curled into a ball, and homed in on Sonic, jumping on his head and throwing him off-balance. Scourge guffawed as he took a marginal lead. Sonic tripped, stumbled forward and almost faceplanted straight into the dirt, but managed to slow down and catch himself. He looked back up to see Scourge a meters ahead of him.

Scourge had run straight up the side of one of the outer walls of the castle and was now speeding along the top. Sonic gritted his teeth and raced toward the wall, going about halfway up on purpose once to see how difficult it would be. It was actually easier than he expected, so he wasted no time in picking up momentum to scale the wall completely, and charged full speed ahead after Scourge.

It took him several minutes to catch up and, by that time, they had passed the front entrance and were steadily going into lap two. It was about that time Sonic’s earpiece vibrated and Sally called him through the receiver. “The Ring’s charged, Sonic!”

He grinned. “Cool. Be there in two shakes!”

Sonic put as much pressure on himself to overtake Scourge, but as he was passing said hedgehog, who was only a couple feet in front of him, Scourge pulled a kind of Houdini, ace-in-the-hole move.

He laughed and made a sudden left, jumping and crashing through a window, calling back, “Catch ya later, loser!”

Sonic, although initially surprised, jumped on instinct after him. He just barely made out Scourge’s silhouette going around a corner at the end of the hallway. “Aw, come on, now!” he called. “I thought you were better than this!” He raced forward and followed Scourge. He wound around the corner, down another dimly lit hallway, and Scourge, once again, ducked out of sight.

This dance kept up as they descended flights of stairs and crisscrossed hallways, Sonic constantly trying to cut his double off. Finally, they both reached the same stretch of hallway, on what Sonic guessed was the ground floor of the castle. He could see Scourge slam a door at the far end of the hall. It was big, ornate, and colored a slight green from oxidization; like one of the doors on either side of the throne.

Scourge had strung him along this far, and Sonic gritted his teeth once again as he threw the iron door open and ducked inside.

It was pitch black inside.

* * *

 

The Freedom Fighters hadn’t done much while Sonic and Scourge had left except keep all their eyes on Alicia. She, in turn, kept a stone-cold grimace on her face and looked about ready to kill a man.

Then, they all heard a muffled crash from the door on the left, as if someone had knocked over a vase. It was followed by the sounds of a scuffle and a couple people yelling out some form of curse. Then, there rang out a loud, repeating _*crack!*_ from behind the doors. Sounded like someone was getting their teeth kicked in but good.

It went on for a minute until there was silence again. The air stilled, but it didn’t stop Tails and Sally from inching closer to the door. Tails looked over at, what he guessed, was Sally’s double. She was eyeing them, but kept her rigid posture, and hadn’t even turned her head to look at them directly.

But with a shout and clattering of some expensive looking furniture, Sonic came barrelling out of the room, his vest and shorts torn in some places, his face bruised and cut, and his earpiece almost busted. He yelled some long-winded curse as he stumbled over to Sally and without skipping a beat, he asked, “We got our exit goin’ yet?”

“Sonic, what happened?” Sally exclaimed, more concerned about his health.

“I...d’ah…” He stuttered, trying to get his thoughts under control. “Ran into that room; got ambushed. Worry about it later, will ya? Gotta get outta here!”

“...Right.” Sally brought out the Warp Ring, which Sonic snatched from her in a heartbeat. Oddly enough, he didn’t throw it immediately, instead, looking it over.

“Just gotta chuck this thing as hard as I can, right?”

Sally looked at him with the old “are you serious?” look, but Sonic brushed it off almost instantly. “Must’a slipped my mind for a sec. That ambush came outta nowhere.”

From the darkened doorway, a gaggle of twisted faces emerged. They looked almost exactly like Antoine, Bunnie, and Tails, except “Bunnie” was wearing biker leather and a black cowboy hat, “Tails” was sporting some frankly invasive looking cybernetics on his arms and the sclera of his left eye was black, and “Antoine” was wearing a green uniform and an eyepatch and was cowering behind Bunnie’s twin.

“Leaving so soon?” asked “Tails.”

Sonic, in response, threw the Warp Ring as hard as he could and it exploded in yellow light, becoming a new doorway to a different plane. Sonic rushed forward and practically took a nosedive in, leaving Sally almost stunned for a minute that he didn’t grab her or anyone else and drag them along. But then again, that ambush he must have suffered must have really thrown him for a loop...even though he didn’t get shaken all that often.

Tails and Sally ran after Sonic, followed by Bunnie and Rotor. The Warp Ring shrunk and disappeared in another flash of white light, leaving the alternate Freedom Fighters to watch.

“I...can’t actually believe that worked. Now we just need to wait and see if we can get over there, too.”

“What Ah wanna know is, what’s Scourge-boy thinkin’ t’git away with?”

“Miles, Buns, go help Boomer,” Alicia commanded.

Miles, Tails’ double, bowed respectfully. “My apologies, Queen Alicia. We’ll get right on that.” He retreated into the room they had come out of, followed by Buns.

“Patch, quit bein’ a l’il bitch an’ do sum goddamn work ‘round heah,” she chided as she dragged Antoine’s doppelganger along behind her. Patch was too busy shaking, not wanting to face whatever he had left in that room. Alicia followed them, and quickly closed the doors.


	12. Crisis of Conscience

The bed in this cabin felt so much softer than the one back in the castle, even if it _was_ missing a warm body next to him. Scourge looked himself over in the mirror, muttering to himself.

“Can’t believe they didn’t pick up on it...almost screwed myself…” Scourge snickered after a pause. “Too bad, though, probably could’a sucker-punched a couple of’em...Bah, can’t get ahead of myself. Gotta find a way to get the others through now. Yeah, _that’s_ when the party can get started...”

To bring him out of his preoccupation, there was a sudden knock on his door, which he opened up after pausing for a second. When he opened it up, Amy was on the other side, and he nearly had a heart attack.

“Morning, Sonic!”

He gritted his teeth, mostly out of fear. “Oh my fucking God, **no.”**

“Thought I’d come check up on you, ‘cause Tails said you were a little…” She stopped and rubbed her head for a moment before deciding on, “‘Out of it’ yesterday.”

Scourge wasn’t listening. All he knew is that if this chick was anything like the one he remembered, he’d have to book it. No time for distractions. And that’s what he did, as he jumped over the railing of the front porch of “his” cabin and fell a few feet before sprinting down the trunk of the great redwood tree the cabin had been built into like a bat out of hell. He ran twenty feet down the tree and got himself lost in the morning crowds, with Amy left standing at his door wondering just what had happened.

She shifted her weight to one side and crossed her arms. “Sonic’s never this jumpy...what was that for?”

Scourge, on the other hand, had crossed Knothole in a few seconds, all the way to the laboratory, trying to avoid eye contact with the civilians that passed by, and went back to muttering to himself. “Should really ask about the whole dealio with the Rings and all that. Don’t wanna ask Miles’ double, he’s just as sharp as the normal one…Might sniff me out.”

He had walked a few feet, thinking about these things when he realized too little too late that he wasn’t paying attention to where he was going and slammed right into Sally. They both cried out and stumbled backward, though Scourge caught himself. After Sally picked herself back up, she said, “I swear, some of the worst bruises I’ve had come from _me_ running into _you_ head-on,” brushing her shoulders off.

“Hey, at least it was _me_ ya ran into!” Scourge responded.

Sally scoffed. “I _guess.”_ She crossed her arms, shrugged, and continued, “Anyway, there’s something I need to tell you about, preferably in the command center. Come on.”

“Why ya gotta be so secretive, honey? You can tell me,” he replied.

Sally looked back at him, and Scourge noticed a small grin appear on her face. She didn’t say anything else, only motioned for him to follow while shaking her head slightly.

* * *

 

 

_Well, here we are,_ Scourge thought. He had followed Sally all the way to Knothole’s command center, and was now sitting down at the round table for mission briefing. Tails, Amy, and Rotor were there, too, and he stayed well enough away from Amy. Scourge still didn’t trust her as far as he could throw her.

Scourge had his arm slung over the back of his chair, and his left leg resting on the table. Sally had been puzzling over a map for the past two minutes, and he was getting impatient. He snapped his fingers to get her attention.

She looked up at him briefly before going back to drawing some sort of path across the map. Scourge grumbled. “Hello…? What’s the big deal we got goin’ here?”

“One second, Sonic,” she said, holding up her hand. She finished drawing across the map, then stood up, looked it over, and nodded, satisfied with her work. Then, she turned to Scourge, with a big smile.

He cocked his eyebrow. “What are ya not tellin’ me here, hun?” he asked with a sly grin.

Amy’s eyes widened. Then, she pouted and crossed her arms, although nobody except Tails noticed. Sally’s smile got wider as she exclaimed, “We’re gonna get your Uncle Chuck back here, and we’re gonna fix him!”

Scourge’s eyebrow raised, and he tried to think of any significance this had. All he knew for sure was that this “Chuck” guy was probably the counterpart to his Uncle Shay. He squinted. He remembered nothing about Uncle Shay; he died early in Scourge’s life, maybe around age five. When he noticed everything had become a bit too quiet, he snapped back to attention and tried to play off being ecstatic by cracking the widest, fakest grin he could.

“Wow, guys! That’s...that’s great!” He tried to look dumbfounded, too, combing his hand through his quills. “I...I dunno what to say…”

“Don’t worry about it,” Rotor said, waving his hand. “We need his help building a better deroboticizer, and this should be just the ticket we need.”

Sally leaned over the table and flattened out the map again. “Nicole and I were able to track Uncle Chuck’s movements with the upkeep crew he’s been assigned to for the past few months. They’re moving him to an outer sector of Robotropolis, which means,” she explained, tracing her finger over the line she just made, “there’s going to be less security around him, so we can drag him out easier.”

They must have at least bought it. “Rad,” Scourge replied, standing up quickly. “Let’s get this show on the road, huh?”

Sally chuckled. “I get that you’re impatient, Sonic. As always,” she added under her breath, “but we’ve still got time before we launch this mission.”

No sooner had she mentioned this Scourge’s stomach twisted and growled a little. He looked down and commented, “Y’know what, sweetie? That’s a good excuse to grab some grub. Be right back!” He raced out of mission control, leaving everyone else looking at the trail of dust he left behind.

“...I don’t think he’s been so... _forthcoming_ with the pet names before,” Rotor mused.

Sally brushed her hair to one side and scoffed. “But I’ve heard him use them. Sonic will be Sonic.”

* * *

 

“Christ, I’m hungry.”

Trystan had been in his cabin all morning. Bunnie told him he should take a break from training so early in the day, and even though it made him disappointed, and threw a wrench in his daily plans, he appreciated her concern for his body. And in the back of his mind, he knew he should rest up more. The constant action wasn’t doing much for his muscles.

He’d been ruminating on what to eat for the past thirty minutes, simply because he hadn’t felt necessarily hungry for any reason, but eventually came to the realization that no one was stopping him from just going to the kitchens and making himself a milkshake. He sat up on his bed, and snapped his fingers with this epiphany. “And I _swear_ I saw some cocoa being stored away somewhere last time I checked, too! Fuck yes!” He hopped up off his bed, hastily put on an undershirt and his sweats, and power walked out the door. “This must be what being an adult feels like,” he said to himself as he passed other civilians of Knothole.

When he got to the kitchen, he wasted no time searching out some cocoa. It was more like “powdered cocoa extract” but he figured he couldn’t knock it until he tried it. Then, he got some ice, some chocolate syrup, a little milk, and ran them through the blender. After a few minutes, he poured it all into a glass (a _tall_ glass), and went back outside to enjoy the fresh air. And maybe talk with a friend if they happened to pass by.

The main plaza was starting to fill up as mobians came in to grab an early lunch. Trystan sat down at a table on the perimeter and took a small swig of his shake. It was smooth, held the perfect amount of chocolate ratio, and was nice and cold, but not completely solid and hard to drink. He sighed. “Like ambrosia express-delivered from heaven itself,” he said, throwing his head back.

He kept drinking, eventually turning around and placing his shake on the table when his hand got tired and started to freeze. He surveyed the plaza. Nobody he knew or cared to talk to, except Sonic, over there on the far right…

“Oh, waitaminnit...Hey, Sonic! Yeah, over here!” Trystan called out to him. Sonic to jumped as if someone had just tapped him on the shoulder without warning and stared at him for a moment.

Of course, Scourge wondered who the hell was talking to him. And why in God’s name he was an overlander. “This...looks interesting,” he mumbled as he strode over.

When he saw Scourge coming closer, Trystan flashed him a sly grin and asked, “There he is. So, uh, how’d that mission _actually_ go yesterday?” He leaned both his elbows on the table. “Heard ya got jumped by a motherfucker.”

_This ugly bastard lives here?_ Scourge’s fake smile twisted slightly, but he stopped himself from sneering and racked his brains for a good answer. Thankfully, it didn’t take long. “Yeah, yeah...almost got me good, too, but…” He trailed of into a snarky chuckle and continued, “You know me. I’m too good at what I do to get nabbed by some poser.”

“Too good at being a snarky jackass, that’s for sure,” Trystan countered with a laugh. “What’d’ya do, brag the guy’s ears off?”

Scourge glared daggers at him, but just as quickly dropped it and crossed his arms. “I didn’t see you riskin’ your ass out there, buddy-boy. Can’t say I blame ya though, it takes more skill than whatever you got in that scrawny little body of yours to come out on top like I always do.”

“Jesus, man, I’m kidding, I’m kidding. I’m glad you’re at least safe,” Trystan said with a twinge of hurt in his voice.

Scourge raised an eyebrow. _An overlander who cares? Fuck, now I’ve seen everything._

“...You okay, Sonic?”

Trystan noticed his flat gaze and his confused expression, which prompted Scourge to clear his throat and reply, “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine, dude.” _Even with a disgusting hairless monkey sitting across from me. I should fix that…_

Scourge pursed his lips and thought for a moment, then shrugged and stood up to leave. Of course, when he did so, he made sure to subtly adjust his body to hit the table, and to do it hard enough to shake it decently. This caused Trystan’s milkshake to wobble, and quickly spill backward, met with an outcry of surprise and frustration.

“What the fuck!?” Scourge stopped mid-movement, feigning surprise. If he could have gotten away with it, he would have grinned ear to ear. Trystan shot up and off his seat with his sweatshirt and jeans taking the most damage. He quickly tried to set the glass back upright again, and looked up at Scourge. “You dick! Do you know how long I spent making this thing...?”

“Sorry, bro,” Scourge replied with a shrug. “Didn’t think I’d hit the table from that angle.”

Trystan sighed, looking down at his clothes. “Great. Gonna spend half the day tryin’ to wash this out,” he muttered bitterly.

“Hey, I said I was sorry,” Scourge lied.

“You did, you did,” Trystan said. He looked at Scourge with an expression mixed between a smile and a frustrated frown. “I’m just amazed how someone so agile can be such a klutz sometimes.” He took his sweatshirt off and left before Scourge could retort with anything, leaving him alone to get his own lunch.

* * *

 

The SWATbots in the open street were busy patrolling around in circles. Sally poked her head out from inside an alley, and quickly retracted as another automaton strode by. Behind her was Scourge, Tails, and Bunnie, in that marching order. She looked back at them, nodded, and Scourge gave her a thumbs-up before running out of cover and wiping out two SWATbots before the others nearby could react. They opened fire, and Scourge ran circles around them before he swept them up in a whirlwind, sending them careening into the sides of buildings.

He stopped on a dime and motioned for everyone else to come out of hiding. As the others ran by and he caught up with Sally, she said, “Good work on sending the bots flying, but I thought I told you to lead them the wrong way and double back on yourself?”

“Whoops.” Scourge scratched his chin. “Must’a slipped my mind. Sorry, babe,” he replied with another one of his casual shrugs. He then picked Sally up and carried her forward, meeting up with and then quickly surpassing the other two Freedom Fighters. “So...where do we gotta go, exactly?”

Sally pulled Nicole out of a pocket on her vest and punched some keys before responding, “Just a few blocks ahead, there’s a building with about...fifteen floors to it. Chuck is somewhere near the top, probably being forced to work on more of Robotnik’s machines.”

Scourge sorted through his options. He’d made sure to grab the Warp Ring from Sally’s cabin while she wasn’t home, so his only worry was getting out cleanly. From what he’d heard, this dimension’s Robotnik was a slimy, cheating, all-around terrible person.

And he _really_ couldn’t wait to chat with the guy. “Gotcha. Ya got an infiltration plan, sweetheart?”

She lightly tapped his cheek, imitating a slap. “Stoppit, Sonic.”

Scourge grinned. “I see ya blushin’,” he teased back.

“Well,” she said, rolling her eyes, “we really don’t know which floor Chuck is on, so…”

“So we’re playin’ in a crapshoot,” Scourge finished. “Perfect.”

When they made it to the specified building, and waited for Tails and Bunnie to arrive, they all entered through an unguarded air vent, and managed to crawl into the second floor, which Sally had informed them was their best place to find Chuck.

“I thought you said he was on the top floor,” Scourge interjected, crossing his arms.

_“One_ of the upper floors, Sonic,” Sally corrected him. “Like I said, we don’t know which one, but we’re gonna find out. Nicole?”

Nicole’s screen flashed to life as she explained, “I’ve located a databank on this floor of the building. Getting into it should allow us to see which security teams of SWATbots and robians are in this station, or if they have left, we’ll know where they’re headed.”

This got an acknowledging nod from Scourge. He couldn’t deny his doppelganger team was resourceful. Pretty much what he and his Supression Squad lacked. However, his silence must have been unwarranted, as everyone was looking at him with confused expressions. He only looked around and shrugged. “Well? We’re wastin’ daylight. Let’s move,” he exclaimed before jogging down the hallway they were in.

Everyone looked after him for a moment, but followed soon. Tails muttered, “I...thought he’d be happier. Since we can track Uncle Chuck and everything…”

Bunnie sighed. “Ah, he’s prolly expectin’ somethin’ to go wrong. Not like it ain’t happened before, sugah,” she told him.

They met up with Sally and Scourge, and followed them as they snuck through the facility. The building itself was nothing more than one of the many storage locations for munitions and raw steel that Robotnik used to build his weapons, but Sally eventually led them to a door and commented, “Through here.”

“‘Through here,’ what?” Scourge asked, crossing his arms.

Sally looked back at him with furrowed brows. “...The database we need to access,” she repeated.

Scourge snapped his fingers and “Ahh”’d in understanding. “So, why’re we not goin’ in?”

Sally placed her ear up against the door while explaining, “Maybe I’m paranoid, but I’m willing to bet there’s at least twenty SWATbots in there,” with an undertone of sarcasm.

Scourge grinned. He had his opportunity, now to seize it. “That all? No biggie. Just watch this!” He curled into a ball and sped forward, first denting the door, then breaking it clean open. Just as Sally had predicted, there were several dozen SWATbots standing around inside, some working on computers. Of course, Scourge’s entrance got _everyone’s_ attention. And of course, Sally was so utterly astounded by “Sonic’s” arrogance, they couldn’t even find the words. Tails called after him, but it was drowned out by Scourge declaring, “Hey, dumbasses! Look at me!”

Every SWATbot’s visor lit up red. “Come an’ get me, you tin-plate trash cans! I’ll rip out your guts and use your chassis as a urinal!” Every SWATbot in the room immediately rushed Scourge, who laughed and barreled past them all before spin-dashing out a window.

And that’s when he took the Ring out of his pocket and ran several blocks away to find a relatively deserted area to use it.

* * *

 

Once the portal was opened and everyone was out, Scourge immediately approached Alicia and opened his mouth to ask a question.

She tossed his original leather jacket and black jeans into his face and commanded him to “go change somewhere else” without skipping a beat.

Boomer looked around, mainly up, at the blackened steel highrises that were poking out of the ground like crabgrass. “The place is in much worse shape than back home,” he remarked.

“All thanks to Professor Julian,” Miles added. “...At least, that’s the most likely case.”

Buns, who remained on guard for either SWATbots or the Freedom Fighters’ return on a stack of metal pipes, started coughing violently. “Man alive, this place’s fahve steps away fr’m hell. Ah can’t _wait_ to leave,” she said afterward.

“Well, ya gotta be patient, sugar,” Scourge said as he came walking back to the group with his old outfit on. “I wanna talk with the man upstairs.” He then waved, telling everyone to follow him and sped off.

Keeping up with Scourge was difficult, but Miles managed to get close enough to call out, “Where do you think you’re going, Scourge!?”

He looked back and smirked. “To the man in the high castle,” he replied as he pointed to Robotnik’s citadel towering over the skyline despite being a good distance away. They made their way through the claustrophobic streets of Robotropolis, sometimes taking rooftops to avoid larger crowds of workers. They made it to the center of the city all the same, close enough to Robotnik’s citadel to garner the attention of an eye drone, hovering a couple dozen feet above them. It blinked, the camera clicked, and it was off.

“God, are we anywhere close to this guy yet?” Boomer complained.

Scourge put a finger to his lips. “I got no idea, but if I was runnin’ this show, I’d set up shop in the royal castle, or whatever’s been built over it. I ain’t gonna look like some homeless **bum.”**

“Scourge, I get that you’re trying to get us some help to bolster our hold on Mobotropolis,” Alicia interrupted, “but we’ve been wandering around for almost two hours and no progress made. And besides, if there _is_ anyone in there…” She pointed to the citadel. “How the hell are we gonna get in?”

“Surrender, mobian scum.”

All of a sudden, descending from specially made dropships came dozens of SWATbots. “You are trespassing on Doctor Robotnik’s fortress. Get down on the ground, or you will be forced _into_ the ground.”

Scourge looked at the rest of his group and cracked a grin. “You wanna get noticed? Then help me trash every last one of these suckers.”

* * *

 

Robotnik remained staring at the red dot on the map being projected on the monitors. He was puzzling over it. It was definitely the Freedom Fighters, after all, there were no other resistance cells for miles around. But why in the world would they simply _walk_ up to his citadel? It wasn’t like them at all. “Snively, give me an update. What does it look like outside?”

“...Sir, it’s the hedgehog, and he brought his friends,” Snively uttered in confusion. “But...they’re all dressed differently.”

**“...What?”** Robotnik got up off his throne and stomped over to Snively, unceremoniously shoving him out of the way to get a better look at the monitor.

Sure enough, Sonic was standing at his doorstep, surrounded by SWATbot parts. His little forest-friends were with him too, but for some reason, they had all shifted their wardrobes around. Sonic checked a nonexistent watch and tapped his foot impatiently. “Goddammit, isn’t _anybody_ home?”

Robotnik, for once, was at a loss for words, but in his mind, he was swiftly putting pieces of a metaphysical puzzle together. Quantum theory wasn’t his focus of study, but he knew enough to build a portable gateway to the Special Zone; he could figure things out.

“Sir…?” Snively’s comment broke Robotnik from his thoughts, and he looked back at his nephew, then back to the screen.

“Snively, what I am about to say may sound crazy...but you should let them in.”

Snively’s jaw went slack and he stumbled backward a couple steps. “S-s-s-sir…? Wha...what are you-”

“Do as I **say,** Snively!” Robotnik demanded, pointing to the control panel. Snively, although confused, feared what would happen to him if he didn’t follow orders more, and hesitantly approached the control panel. He flicked a switch, and the door in front of the “Freedom Fighters” slid open, catching a couple of them off-guard (namely Patch), but they entered, single file.

Robotnik tapped Snively on the shoulder. “Snively, does my cape look well-pressed enough? It _is_ very rare to entertain visitors, after all.”

“You, erm, look quite dashing, sir,” Snively said. He turned back to his work at the controls and muttered, “Dashing as meat left in the sun for two weeks,” under his breath.

* * *

 

After he had invited these “strangers” in and they had the chance to explain themselves, Robotnik seemed...unnaturally pleased. “Ah, so my theory was right. As per usual,” he commented as he sat back in his chair. The Supression Squad shifted, looking at each other.

“He’s like the professor,” Alicia whispered to Miles through grated teeth, “But fatter.”

“Of course he is…” Miles stopped as Robotnik kept laughing, just to make sure he wasn’t listening to their private conversation. “He’s _this_ universe’s version _of_ Professor Robotnik. Weren’t you paying attention to me when I was explaining that?”

Alicia shrugged. “Mm, kinda sorta.”

“...You’re like a petulant child…” Miles muttered under his breath.

Robotnik stopped laughing and leaned forward slightly. “But I have to ask... _Supression Squad_ , why would _you_ come to _me,_ if you already have a stranglehold on your own version of Robo-” He stopped himself and spat. _“Mobotropolis._ My apologies. I haven’t had to use that name in so long...it’s practically rusted in my memory now.”

Scourge scoffed and craned his neck hard to one side, cracking it. “For some ‘R an’ R,’ doc. Seriously, keepin’ your ass glued to a throne might _sound_ fun, but man...it’s more tiring than ya think. Especially if you don’t wanna be there in the first place.”

“Oh, I relate, hedgehog, believe me.”

Snively, all the while, was standing at his control console, staring at the doppelgangers conversing with his uncle. He scowled. Robotnik’s fake sincerity must have been so terrible it was convincing; how he hadn’t gotten an acting career struck him as odd, since he was already the perfect boisterous antagonist.

“In that case, my _friends,”_ Robotnik said in his usual condescending tone, “if it really is a...change of pace you’re after, may I make a suggestion…?” The whole group looked at him, though Miles and Boomer were the only two who retained a veil of mild disinterest. Robotnik started drumming his fingers together. “If you could hassle your normal counterparts for me, it would be... **greatly** appreciated.”

There was silence for a second, before Scourge broke it with his uproarious laughter. “You kiddin’, fat man!?” Robotnik’s lip twitched as he tried to hold himself back from strangling Scourge; God only knew it would help relieve some of the frustration of not being able to kill off the real deal. “I’ve practically been doin’ that all day! You just tell us what we need to do.”

Robotnik sighed, releasing the rest of his pent-up rage and stated, as calmly as he could, “It’s simple, really. Lure them into a wide, yet enclosed space with no visible exits, and, erm...rough them up _a little.”_ He closed his thumb and index finger together, but his voice denoted that, in this case, “a little” meant he wanted to see some skulls broken.

“I certainly have more than enough places you can tactically engage them...Come back, perhaps, and we can discuss these matters further?”

“That would be preferable.” Miles nodded his head toward the door, noting that everyone should follow him. “We will return in...two days.”

Robotnik put on his fake welcoming smile. “I will always be available.” The Supression Squad left, in single file, with Scourge as the last one to leave. He stopped at the door, looked back and flashed a cheeky smile at Robotnik before following his comrades, and a SWATbot escort.

Robotnik nodded, and got up off his throne, and started pacing back and forth in front of it. He was sporting his usual maniacal grin, which Snively noticed. “Something tells me this ‘alliance’ is going to be shattered in record time, sir. You’re wearing that look again,” he commented.

“What did you expect from me, Snively?” he retorted. “Where’s the fun in playing nice...?”

Robotnik stopped, and looked out the massive, semicircular window, down on the smog and ash-coated buildings below him. “Besides,” he added, “I’ve got a new prototype mech in the works, and I need it field-tested.”

* * *

 

The heavy metal footfalls came close to a rusted door of some old apartment. Everyone held their breath, but the SWATbots outside passed without hesitation, running forward in a straight line. Sally forced the door ajar and peered out the slim break that let the dull light of the outside in.

“I think we’re clear,” she whispered after a minute and led Bunnie and Tails outside. The three of them glanced around cautiously, and crossed the road into another alleyway. Once Scourge had intruded on the database being looked over by SWATbots, Sally had to rework her plan on the fly. Originally, she had decided to double back and try to mislead the forces chasing them and then return to the database. By the time they had, Robotnik must have caught on. Checking the list of recently moved robians revealed Chuck had been moved from the building, and the slave crew he was with was kept under heavy surveillance, which made tracking him a bad idea.

Everyone was still trying to wrap their heads around what had gotten into Sonic, Tails most of all. No matter what scenario he made, nothing added up.

Sally sighed and pressed her fingers to her head. “This was an absolute disaster,” she muttered.

Bunnie took a look around, and up at the smog-darkened sky. “D’y’all think Sonic’s been captured by Robotnik by now? He ain’t been answerin’ the calls Ah sent to his comms. An’ he sure ain’t callin’ us.”

She sighed and crossed her arms. Tracking Sonic down in Robotropolis would be a monumental task that only assured people would die.

“Yo.”

Luckily, he was more prone to seeking _them_ out.

Scourge swung his way down from the rooftops using broken old flagpoles and his speed. He had made sure to change back into his disguise garb, and had been tracking the other three Freedom Fighters a little over an hour after getting his Supression Squad back to Anti-Mobius and was, for lack of a better term, _glad_ to be back with his “team.” He’d been wondering how they’d handle his little jinx on their plans. “Sorry for splittin’ like that,” he said. “Might’ve gotten a little carried away. _Maybe.”_

Everyone was in too much shock to speak. The only thing that even Sally could muster was, “You…” She trailed off, there was silence, and then she went off again. “Sonic, you idiot!”

Bunnie tried interrupting with “Now, Sally-girl…” to at least quiet her down, but she kept going.

“What in God’s name is wrong with you!? This was a simple plan. Simple! All we had to do was get in, check the computers, and get your uncle by giving him one of the Power Rings, at the very least _tag_ him so we could track him down later if he put up too much of a fight!” she yelled. “Thanks to _you,”_ she continued, “we’ve just about gone two steps _backward!”_ She took a very shallow breath in before yelling, “You’ve _never_ been this arrogant!”

Scourge did recoil from her tirade, but his expression remained more or less neutral. On the inside, he was smiling like a little imp. _Shit, that was pretty intense,_ he thought. _I bet if poor ol’ Sonic heard that, he’d eat a heapin’ helpin’ of system shock!_

Still, he had appearances to keep up, so he let his brow sink and his mouth frown. “Jeez, I’m sorry, babe. I just kinda got goin’ and couldn’t stop.” He leaned against a wall, crossing his arms. “You know how it is, right?”

She covered her forehead with her hand. “God’s sake...No I **don’t** know how it is.” Sally started walking away, motioning for everyone else to follow. “The mission’s scrubbed. Let’s get back home.”

Late afternoon had settled in by the time Bunnie, Tails, Sally, and Scourge had returned. Tails elected to retire to his workshop and help Rotor put some finishing touches on the plane he was building while Sally and Bunnie went back to the command center to try and formulate a plan around their recent failure. Scourge, of course, wandered over to the plaza and grab dinner. This time, he hoped he could at least eat in peace without any nosy overlanders butting in to annoy him.

After going around the plaza once, he eventually had two chili dogs hot of the grill and sitting on a plate. And he had just sat down to properly enjoy them when a familiar voice called out to him.

“Sonic!”

Scourge froze. “Oh, God, not again.” He got up to leave immediately, not even bothering with taking his food with him, but before he could start running, someone had put him into an inescapable bear-hug. His heart stopped, and even though he knew this Amy was non-hostile, it was hard to kick an old habit.

He turned his head to see her clutching his back, arms wrapped tightly around him. She looked up with those glassy (and to Scourge, terrifying) green eyes. “...Gotcha, Sonic!” Scourge squirmed, and even tried to suppress a whimper. Of course, Amy remained unaware of it. “So...I just heard you got back from a mission. How about a celebratory date?”

Amy waited on his answer, and what she got was her “hero” forcibly wrenching her off and shoving her aside. The shock that came immediately after didn’t allow her to keep her self upright, and she fell to the ground, looking up in mixed hurt and confusion at Scourge.

“Mission failed,” he muttered. He ran off without another word.

* * *

 

Trystan walked back outside his cabin and took a right, going to the side to check up on his sweatshirt, which was taking, by far, the longest time to dry out. It was flapping on the clothesline and looked okay, so he took it down and threw it on to test it.

It was still a little damp. He shrugged, took it off, and hung it back up. A few more minutes wouldn’t hurt it; besides, he was going to go spar with Bunnie and Antoine, and getting that thing all sweaty again would just defeat the purpose. As he walked down the stairs and walkways strung up between the trees, he noted the sun in the sky. It was setting fast. He’d have to grab dinner soon.

He got to the training field to find Bunnie and Antoine already set up, no surprise there, and they started almost immediately.

Bunnie was practically dancing around him as usual, but Trystan had become somewhat wise to her tactics. She only did it to confuse him, and put more force into her attacks depending on what angle she came at him from. Trystan knew that this time, he’d have to make the first move. He ran forward after she had gone around him twice, taking a purposefully wide swing to get her to stop and back up.

“Yer learnin’ fast, Trystan!” she called. She ran right back in, keeping her metal arm in front of her as a shield. Trystan dove out of the way, leading her like a matador.

“Exiled or no, overlanders do love a good fight!” he called back.

“Eet certainly explains why most of zem are so narrow-minded,” Antoine commented.

Bunnie and Trystan clashed, exchanged a couple kicks, then backed up. He turned to Antoine with a half-smug, half-annoyed grin. “Oh, shut up.”

Trystan and Bunnie kept up for a few more minutes before Antoine came in and threw a wooden sword to Trystan. He looked at the dummy weapon that landed at his feet, and back to Antoine. “Oh, what, this already?”

The beginnings of a smug grin appeared on Antoine’s face, but he quickly wiped it off. “Hah! You must still be quite afraid of me and my skills, no?”

“I thought I’d at least get a break for some water,” he retorted, then wiped his forehead and looked at his palm. “...Fuck it, I guess I can drink my sweat.”

This, as Trystan predicted, made Antoine cringe, and he snatched the sword off the ground and rushed forward, and swung horizontally. Antoine yelped and ducked, with Trystan going right by him.

He stopped and pivoted after basking in some of the glory that his distraction tactic had worked. “Show some spine, frenchy, come on!” Trystan ran back and took a few more wild swings. Not as crazy as the first couple sessions, but still...

“Y-y-you are leaving yourzelf too out in zee open! T-t-try to keep y-your arms-” Antoine flinched as he blocked a hard overhead strike from Trystan. “...Undair control!” he cried.

They kept at it for a minute more before Antoine called for a quick break to make sure Trystan wouldn’t give him a nasty welt on his head. And as luck would have it, that’s when Amy wandered in. She didn’t say a word, in fact Trystan and Antoine didn’t even notice she was there until Bunnie called, “Howdy, sugah!” and waved. That prompted the two boys to say hello as well, but in an unconventional gesture, she sat down on the lowest line of bleachers and didn’t say a word. She didn’t even wave back.

Trystan was the only one who seemed to take notice of Amy’s uncharacteristically silent nature, or at least seemed to care. He remained as he was, sitting on a sideline bench opposite the bleachers on the far end of the field, staring at her as he took infrequent sips of water. “Huh. Ah don’ think Ah ever seen Miss Amy so…” Bunnie paused. _“Down_ before,” she muttered.

Trystan took one last drink of ater before chucking the empty cup into the nearby wastebasket. “I’ll go talk to her. Not like I’m doin’ anything better right now anyway,” he said. Trystan walked all the way over to Amy, who still didn’t even seem to regard his presence. Even _he_ knew that meant something was wrong.

When he was a few feet away, he cleared his throat. Amy looked up at him, erasing the glum look she had before. “Somethin’ wrong, kid?”

Amy sighed and held her head in her hands. She was silent for another minute, making Trystan slightly awkward before she answered, “Sonic…”

“What about Sonic?”

“Something’s wrong with him,” Amy said as she looked up.

Trystan cocked an eyebrow. “Huh. Last time I saw him, he looked okay to me,” he mused.

“Not wrong as in ‘sick,’ he’s just…” Amy looked up at the burning orange sky before looking back at Trystan. “He’s not himself.”

Trystan furrowed his brow and sat down next to her. “Why ya sayin’ that, kid?”

Amy’s eyes narrowed, and she looked down. “When he came back from today’s mission…” she began, “I went to see him. I...I thought he’d be happy.”

Trystan noticed her eyes were getting slightly misty, but she kept talking. “I...I hugged him, and he...he…” She sniffled and continued, “He pushed me off and told me the mission failed.”

“...Shoving you off _is_ kinda rude, but telling you the mission he was on failed doesn’t seem-”

“It was the _way_ he said it, Trystan,” Amy interrupted. “Normally, he would just shrug, grin and say ‘We’ll get’em next time,’ but this time, he sounded so...so…” She wiped the formation of tears off. “So _mean.”_

Trystan looked back out, his hand absentmindedly scratching his chin. “‘Mean,’ huh?” he asked, turning back to Amy, who nodded in response. “Alright, alright. Sonic’s definitely cocky, but not to the point of being straight-up mean-spirited.” He paused a moment before adding, “So, whaddaya think’s wrong with him, then?”

Amy actually had to think about that question, but all of Sonic’s current quirks and the ones she knew only added up to one possible explanation. “Whoever that is, it’s not Sonic.”

Trystan’s eyes went a bit wide, but he quickly took on a thoughtful expression. “So what you’re saying is,” he articulated, “that you think Sonic’s been replaced.”

“Yeah!” Amy exclaimed.

Trystan hushed her after looking over at Bunnie and Antoine to make sure they weren’t listening on their conversation. They seemed to be talking to each other instead, which relaxed him more. “Wll, to be honest, any other time, I would say that line of thinking’s a bit...crazy,” Trystan said. This earned a rather mild scowl from Amy, but he quickly added, “But considering what I’ve heard from Bunnie when she and a few others escaped from Robotnik using their new ‘Warp Ring-amajig,’ that...actually makes a lot more sense than it should.”

“So then that means Sonic’s been replaced?” Amy exclaimed again, her eyes flashing with the hope that the real Sonic was still out there.

Trystan shushed her again. “I don’t know for sure, kid, but it does look like a good bet. I tell ya what…” He looked back, looked around to make sure no one was close enough to eavesdrop. “I think we can try making a second Warp Ring thingy and jumping to this parallel world ourselves. If Sonic really _was_ replaced by an exact lookalike, that anti-world is definitely where we should start looking.”

Amy inhaled sharply and then stood up, holding her fists close to her chest and beaming. “We’re gonna rescue Sonic…!?”

Trystan nodded and looked back at Bunnie and Antoine. “We’re gonna need more manpower than just you an’ me though, kid. I think I should be able to drag Antoine into it pretty easily.” He decided that once he had convinced Antoine to join them, he’d go directly to Amy’s cabin and tell her it was time to go.

“Just one note,” Trystan said. “I think we’re the only two people who can agree on the fact that Sonic might not be Sonic. You can’t,” he stressed, “tell _anyone_ else about what we’re going to do. The only reason I’m confident about letting Antoine in on it is that _he’ll_ want to hold being the one who saved _Sonic_ over that hedgehog's head. Once I get him goin’, he’ll follow.” Trystan paused, then chortled. “Maybe not through hell, but he’ll follow pretty damn close.”

They both agreed on a general time frame to slip away, sometime tomorrow evening. It was about then that Antoine called him back to spar. Or at least, Bunnie called him back and got Antoine out to fight him with fake swords first.

* * *

 

A woman in crimson armor brought up her left arm across her chest horizontally. “Ave!”

“Verifex Calico,” the Praetorius said, his hands folded as he leaned on his table, “what have you got to report?”

“Something crazy, sir,” she answered, stepping forward, “our potential allies have found a way to puncture the very walls of reality.”

The Praetorius chuckled quietly to himself. “Good God. Every time I think I’ve seen it all, those mobians just love to prove me wrong.”

Emex didn’t seem to share his good humor, however. “General, we _have_ to intervene directly. If they have found a way to punch through space, as the Verifex claims, they could end up destroying us. And suppose this technology fell into the wrong hands?” he cried.

“Verifex...how did they manage this?” Blesse questioned before either the General or Emex could continue.

Calico bowed to her quickly before speaking and explained, “From what I could hear on the spider drone’s sensors, they managed to sneak into their capital city and use something called a ‘Ring’ to break through spacetime. Based on my prior knowledge, the Rings are generated inside Knothole and kept there to keep it running with clean, renewable power. Doctor Robotnik has virtually no access to these artifacts.”

“So these Rings are locally contained?” The Praetorius asked.

“Affirmative.”

“I see no need to intervene if the technology is localized and cannot be accessed by outside forces. We have no right nor need to investigate any further, Cincius Emex,” The Praetorius stated with finality. “Where have you hidden the spider drone, Verifex?”

The Verifex brought up her right arm, and a small holographic control panel came up. “It’s currently planted in their command center. Should I move it?”

“Yes. Move it back to...Sonic’s hut. The hedgehog’s practically oblivious to small details; hide it in his closet,” he commanded.

The Verifex touched a couple hard-light buttons and stated, “Done.”

“Excellent. You’re dismissed, Verifex Calico.” The Verifex saluted again, hailed the Praetorius, pivoted, and left the grand hall. There was but a moment of silence before the doors opened and another person in armor walked in, accompanied by several more foot-soldiers. They halted in front of the semicircular table and saluted the three reigning commanders. “Ave!”

“Yes, next on my list...more reconnaissance,” the Praetorius droned, looking at a checklist in front of him. “Anything new to report, Verifex...Lycus?”

The Verifex of this squadron stepped forward, producing a small, circular base stand that had been strapped to his arm. He placed it on the table, and pressed a button on it, producing a holo-image of the inside of one of the factories of Robotropolis. There were SWATbots and robians crawling all over the place, mostly working on the giant assembly lines spaced apart in the picture. Everyone was silent until the Praetorius nodded at the Verifex, as if to say, _You may explain._

“While we were stationed in the Kappa District, we took a quick look into the main factory to see if anything big was being built,” Lycus explained.

“You’ll have to point it out to us,” Emex deadpanned.

“Of course.” Lycus touched the back of the holo-image and it zoomed in on one of the assembly lines in the mid ground. “It took us awhile to see, but there was one of these robotic machines that looked completely unlike the others. You’ll see here, on this conveyor belt, what looks like an endoskeleton.” He traced a shape out on the image, and it quickly became apparent to the counselors that, yes, there _was_ a bipedal endoskeleton going down the line.

The Praetorius drummed his fingers together. “You have my attention…”

“We jammed up some radio signals and hacked into the factory’s mainframe,” Lycus continued, “and we found _this_ schematic.” The holo-image shifted to a strange hedgehog robot, half of it cut off to reveal its inner parts. The other half that still had its shell was mostly colored blue, and it looked extremely slim. “It’s not a brainwashed citizen, obviously,” the Verifex stated, “it’s custom-made.”

“Another tool of war,” the Praetorius said under his breath. “I’m not going to take any chances. If this...whatever it is, is used against us in another attack, we might not make it out alive. Station Jupiter’s Hammer in the district. You have my permission to use excessive and _decisive_ force.” The soldiers of the Filii Rubrum glanced around at each other. “Is this agreed on, Cincius Emex?”

“Jupiter’s Hammer authorized,” Emex stated flatly.

He looked over at Blesse. “Decision authorized?”

She was quiet before sighing and saying, “Jupiter’s Hammer authorized.”

The soldiers in the room, save for the Verifex, shifted and some began whispering in excitement. The Praetorius took out his gavel and smashed it on the table, which quieted some of the rowdy soldiers. “It’s unanimous. Get the strike force together and wait on my signal.” The Verifex and his soldiers quickly exited the grand hall to make for the barracks, grab their weapons, and pray to whatever god was out there that luck would be on their side for once.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Fuck me this chapter was hard to pick up and finish. Fuck. Me.  
> Unrelated, I’m hella late to the party, but that SONIC FORCES TRAILER, HOLY S H I T, YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW HYPED I AM


	13. Jupiter's Hammer

Crickets in the underbrush were chirping harmoniously as the lake rippled under light breezes. Trystan sat nearby, but the last thought on his mind was enjoying the scenery. He was wearing absolutely nothing, having tossed his clothes to the side, and he was squatting down in a small clump of bushes to keep out of sight on the off-chance someone wandered by.

He poked his head out of his hiding place. The water remained undisturbed. Despite being draped in a towel, he shivered. “Hurry up already, I’m freezing my dick off.”

The waters answered his plea after a few seconds, as there was a dim glow under the surface that started to intensify. When he saw it, Trystan wasted no time running out of his hiding spot, dropping the towel, and lunging out to grab a Ring as it shot out of the water. He fell in with a loud splash, but quickly swam back to shore with the Power Ring clutched between his teeth.

After he pulled himself out and tucked the Ring into his sweatshirt, he rolled it up, tied the towel around his waist, and carried his clothes further away from the central lake, where he hid behind more foliage and dried himself off.

* * *

 

 

Antoine had gone out on his daily walk, believing the cool night air would relieve some stress. Knothole was actually far more beautiful at night, and it reminded him of the royal palace of Mobotropolis, what fuzzy memories there already were. The huts and cabins were built in perfect harmony with the Great Forest, stretching up to the sky.

It almost made him feel at peace, a feeling that was quickly shattered as he passed through a row of huts built on the ground and was grabbed and pulled back into the shadows, a hand over his mouth to keep him for screaming. He still tried, even though it came out muffled. Whoever grabbed him had smooth hands, meaning they were hairless, meaning there was only one possible culprit.

_“Oh mon dieu, toi bâtard fou!”_ he yelled, turning to face Trystan.

This earned him Trystan’s hand back across his mouth as he leaned out of the alley they were in and a quick glance around. “Cork it, Antoine,” Trystan hissed as he slunk back into the shadows. “We got work to do.”

_“Excusez-moi?”_ he exclaimed.

Trystan slapped his mouth closed a third time. “Seriously, Antoine, be _quiet!_ I’m working on a plan here.”

Antoine pushed his hand away. “Zee overlander has a plan? By God, zat really _eez_ a surprise,” he said in a lower voice than before. “Does eet explain why you ‘ave given me such a scare?”

“Lemme answer that question with another question,” Trystan retorted, “Tell me, do you think Sonic’s been acting like more of a jackass lately?”

Antoine scoffed. “Zee hedgehog eez always being one of zee stupid people.”

Trystan rolled his eyes. “Of course he is, but don’t you think he’s been more of an egotist recently? Like, he’s really been rubbing his greatness in everyone’s faces,” he said. “The fuckboy even had the nerve to spill my drink,” he muttered. He still hadn’t gotten over that grievance.

Antoine paused. “...He _has_ been overtly regressive…” he mused.

“‘Overly aggressive,’ frenchy,” Trystan corrected with a smirk.

“I see no deefferentiation,” Antoine brushed him off.

“Either way, something’s wrong. Normally, I don’t give much thought to coincidences, but Amy and I had a little chit-chat yesterday, and according to her, not _only_ is Sonic being a massive prick, but he failed to set his own uncle free when all the odds were in his favor. Whoever this fucker is, he’s playing as fog on the field,” Trystan explained.

“Zat eez very good and all, but, erm, tell me, Monsieur Treestan...‘Ow will we be proving zis to zee princess? To _anyone,_ really?“ Antoine questioned. In response, Trystan’s face slowly worked up a devious grin. “M...Monsieur…?” he stammered.

“We’re not,” Trystan said flatly. “At least not conventionally. We’re goin’ to Robotropolis.”

Antoine’s heart near froze with fear. “A-a-a-all by ou-ou-our lonesome…?” He started shaking.

“Naw, you kiddin’? I still got Amy to call in. Hell, if _I_ didn’t suggest finding a way to break into Robotropolis, she’d’ve done it herself. Anyway, think about it…” Trystan began. “Sonic and co. go out on a mission to charge a Power Ring. They use it to break through dimensions. They come back telling people they went to a universe where the heroes’ bad traits are grossly exaggerated, and after that point, Sonic’s been acting more stuck-up than usual. The logic makes sense, but we need to go there ourselves to see if my hunch is right.” He paused before stating, “We’re going on a black ops mission, my man.”

“B-b-b-black pops…?”

“Black _ops,_ but yes. This does mean what you think it means,” he corrected Antoine.

This was, of course, met with Antoine’s cowardly resistance. “W-well, Monsieur Treestan, I would be more zan loving to go along with your idea, but, erm, you see…” he lied, “...I have been meaning to go and get my teeth checked, yes, zat eez it! I am in need of a dentist’s checkup-”

“Come off it, Antoine!” Trystan grabbed him by the collar of his uniform and looked Antoine dead in the eyes. It caused him to squeal, but otherwise he was too shaken to move. “Look at me. If you don’t help me out, I might not be able to set the real Sonic back in his place, if this is a case of mistaken identity. If that happens, nobody will realize the phony we’ve got now **is** nothing but a phony, and do you know what’ll happen if he stays here long enough?” He didn’t wait for an answer, immediately diving back in with, “He’ll eventually get sweet on Sally, and they’ll get married. Do you want some faking, hotheaded, blue wank-stick gettin’ cozy with _your_ princess...?”

Antoine’s expression hardened  faster than quick-drying cement, and he forced Trystan to let go of him as he turned and marched out of the alley they had been talking in. “Follow my lead, Monsieur Treestan! Togethair, we shall infeeltrate Robotropolis in secret and find zee truth!”

Trystan smirked. “That was so easy I almost feel bad.”

He quickly followed Antoine before overtaking him and leading instead. “What in zee name of-”

“First rule of going black ops,” Trystan instructed, “You don’t talk about going black ops.”

Antoine stopped for a moment to think. “Zen by zat logic, doesn’t zat mean _you_ are talking about going zee way of black pops?”

Trystan stopped as well and slowly turned to face Antoine with a pained grin. “Do as I say, not as I do, dammit,” he pleaded as he walked away, leading him to Amy’s cabin after a couple minutes.

Amy had finished sorting a few old tarot cards when she heard someone knocking on the door, and upon answering, she saw Trystan and Antoine, all geared up and ready to go. Trystan winked. “You ready, kid?”

A smile immediately spread across her face. “Absolutely!”

* * *

 

Entering Robotropolis had been easier than any of them expected, but getting into the Grey Gardens would be a whole other ballpark. Trystan peered out of a sewer grate, then quickly ducked down as a patrol of SWATbots and robians marched right over him. He poked the top of his head back out before shoving the grate off his head and climbing out. “Coast is clear, you two,” he whispered.

He helped Antoine up, after a moment of scuffling and muttered curses, and he, in turn, brought Amy to the surface last. Antoine informed Trystan, “I am thinking you are better off not eating so much of your mother’s soup.”

“I’ll listen to your advice when you finally decide to put margarine in your escargot, then. That shit needs all the sweeteners it can get,” Trystan retorted.

“Why, I nevair…!” Antoine started. “I cannot _believe_ you would think zat _margarine_ should be put into a dish of escargot! Eet eez zee _worst_ possible substitute to put into any kind of fine cuisine, and in fact, I cannot be thinking of a single reason for eet to exist! Zere’s too much fat, sugars, and pree-sairveteeves. I should shred your clothes for even suggesting-”

Trystan clapped his hand over Antoine’s mouth and sighed. “Remind me to never start conversations about food if you’re within ten feet of me,” he said.

“Guys?” Amy interrupted. “Focus, maybe? We gotta make sure we don’t get shot, you know.” Trystan and Antoine glanced at each other awkwardly, but did know the time for action was best spent doing some acting.

They darted across a few roads, Trystan’s knife out and gun permanently pointed ahead of him. Antoine had brought his sabre with him, mostly by his own accord. It made him feel more in control. Trystan was still 98% percent certain he was going to run away from a fight when they encountered one. Every subsequent encounter after that only increased those odds. Amy had her hammer somewhere on her, of course, but Trystan knew asking where it was exactly was either going to get him a shrug or a blow to the head.

They had soon made it into the outskirts of the Grey Gardens by utilizing narrow alleyways and sewer checkpoints, avoiding conflict when possible. Of course, Trystan had destroyed ten SWATbots and taken down five robians, and Amy had beaten down whatever he wasn’t focused on. Antoine had beheaded one SWATbot, after Amy had knocked it backward it and caused it to stumble.

They both stared out of an elevated road that had a clear view of Robotnik’s citadel. “Monsieur Treestan,” Antoine whispered, “n-n-now what…?”

Trystan, in response, pointed at the citadel. “We gotta get from here, to there…” He slowly brought his hand down from the upper floors to pointing at the base of the building. “To w-a-a-a-y down there,” he whispered back.

Antoine paused before adjusting his coat nervously. “And ‘ow will we be getting inside in zee first place?”

Trystan shrugged. “No clue. I was plannin’ on just knocking on the front door and asking for directions.”

He had vaulted over the railing that separated them from a street below before Antoine could ask if he was kidding or not. Amy followed him, and regardless, he had no choice but to keep pressing forward, being this deep in enemy territory.

The three of them made it to a preliminary wall surrounding the citadel. From where they stood, there was no easy way into Robotnik’s fortress; the entrance gates were all heavily guarded, and not only was the wall at least fifteen feet high, the top was pockmarked by an electric grid. Trystan would have blown up one of the security gates if not for the fact he wanted to just get in and get out as fast as possible. However, an “easy entrance” was entirely subjective, as Trystan managed to find a manhole about halfway between two entrance gates, and he called Antoine over. “Ugh, weren’t we just _in_ ze sewair?” he groaned.

“Probably a different drainage system, Antoine. It won’t be that bad.” Trystan lifted the lid and Antoine and Amy scurried down. Trystan followed, and just like magic, the tunnel they were in led straight ahead, and under the security wall. “See? I don’t even need a handheld supercomputer with a GPS,” he articulated.

* * *

 

 

Ten minutes and a few cramps later, Antoine, Amy, and Trystan had infiltrated the citadel’s ventilation system and were steadily climbing up a shaft by stabbing the walls with their bladed weapons. Amy had to shuffle up the hard way, and the boys knew better than to let her go first with how short her dress was. They couldn’t hear any alarms, so everyone assumed they were still nonexistent to Robotnik’s forces.

In order to climb up, they all had to brace themselves against one wall with their back and the opposite wall with their legs and then drive whatever they had into the wall they were climbing. Antoine already had a couple slip-ups so far, due to his nagging fear of how high up they were in the ventilation shaft. Trystan had ordered him to be quiet so no one would hear any voices echoing through the grates.

They eventually made it up to a proper floor, but Trystan decided to stay in the vent to minimize the risk of being seen, something Antoine wholeheartedly agreed with. “Now all we gotta do is find an elevator that goes to the basement,” Trystan muttered as he crawled forward through the vents alongside a hallway.

“You know how long that’ll take?” Amy asked.

Trystan shrugged his shoulders slightly. “Dunno. Could take five minutes...could take five hours.” They proceeded forward, around a couple corners, when they heard voices up ahead, from the hallway outside. They sounded vaguely familiar, but no one could pin a person to the corresponding voice. They did hear a door close, and Trystan guessed, from the distance of the sound, that it was only a dozen or so feet ahead of them.

He motioned for Antoine to follow him around a left corner (which earned a small _“Oui, oui,_ I am coming,” to reassure him). They got a few paces before Trystan stopped and Antoine and Amy almost ran into each other.

“Now what is zee problem here?” he asked.

Trystan, in response, leaned over as far as he could to reveal two panels installed on either side of the vent. There were hair-thin lasers being emitted from the panels, forming three horizontal bars. “Laser grid,” Trystan said, shifting back over to get his center of balance restored. “Won’t kill us, but it’ll make damn sure everyone knows we’re here.”

“...‘Ow are getting by, Monsieur Treestan?” Antoine whispered tentatively.

He looked at the panels. They were smooth steel, definitely not the same material as the vent around them. He took out his knife and touched the panel once, making sure the lasers didn’t hit him. Nothing happened. He was about to turn the plasma blade on and try again, but decided to save that as a last resort, and instead, thrust his knife into the vent ceiling and slowly cut a hole out. Trystan poked his head through after he was done and smirked.

“There’s just enough space up there for us to crawl through,” he said, beaming. “Come on!”

Trystan moved himself up and over the vent, surprised he didn’t see any more traps in the crawlspace (if anything, he was only worried about strangling himself in the _one billion_ electrical cords crisscrossing it). Antoine followed swiftly, Amy almost got stuck, and after a few steps, Trystan cut his way back into the vent, on the other side. They shuffled forward a few feet before Trystan heard something from the right, and down another vent shaft. The voices were talking. He nodded right, indicating the other two should follow.

They crawled forward, and the voices increased in volume, along with the distant beeping of computer terminals.

“...And then we’ll lure them into your arena. I see...” Trystan looked out of a vent to see the Freedom Fighters talking to a video image of Dr. Robotnik’s face, leaning back in his throne. Except, everyone were wearing leather, in addition to more rough and worn out clothes.

And he knew for a fact the pompous looking fool in the blonde wig to the far right wasn’t Antoine, because he was right next to him, trying to get a better look out of the vent grate along with Amy.

“Once that happens, lock the place down, and we’ll handle the rest,” Miles said with a smirk.

Robotnik drummed his fingers on his throne for a moment, considering the idea before nodding. “Yes, that should do the trick. I _have_ been working on a special robot as well. If you don’t mind me including it, it should get the job done faster,” he articulated.

Miles nodded. “Excellent.”

There was a brief pause before Alicia cleared her throat. “And in return for our help…?”

Robotnik grinned. “Strange...after all this time, I thought _you_ were helping _me.”_

“What?” Alicia exclaimed. “Why you…! Who do you think you are? You should know _you’re_ helping _us!”_

“Alicia…” Miles muttered through grated teeth. Boomer huffed and crossed his arms.

Robotnik rolled his eyes, keeping his hands folded together. Yet, he still smiled. “No, no, Miles, it’s quite all right. Misunderstandings happen. I suppose, since I’m so generous, that I can pay you with...hmm...perhaps some old trinkets left over by the old royal family then? I certainly have no use for them.” Alicia and Patch nodded, but Miles and Boomer requested to be given compensation in the form of tech they could “play with.”

“Perfect!” Robotnik said. “Meet me in my foyer...no deception. Scout’s honor.” He crossed his heart and then got up from his chair.

The video turned off soon after, and the doors to the room opened up. The Suppression Squad made their way out, cajoling the whole time, although Miles and Patch were more reserved about it. The doors closed as their voices got more distant.

Trystan remained still where he was, just in case he might have missed the noise from some movement that betrayed someone else being in the room before cutting the vent grate to pieces and crawling out of it. Amy followed him and whispered, “Who were _those_ guys...?”

Antoine stammered, _“Z-z-zut alors, z_ ey sounded just like us!”

“One of’em sounded like you,” Trystan corrected. “Come on, we gotta find an elevator.”

They walked over to the sliding doors to the hallways, Trystan instructing Antoine to stand on the left edge while he and Amy took the right. The door opened, and after that, there was no more sound. “See anything?” Trystan whispered.

“Not a thing,” Antoine shook his head.

“You sure?”

Amy huffed and gently pushed Trystan out of her way, peering around the left corner. “Nothing there, Trystan.”

Trystan nodded and came out of the door’s blind spot and into the hallway, pointing his gun forward. After the spot check, he motioned for the other two to follow him outside. They went to the right due to them hearing the others from down the corridor around the left corner. Amy smirked and exclaimed, "Guys this is great! I couldn't have planned this any better!"

Antoine was looking around nervously as he replied, "A-a-and why eez zat?"

"Don't you see? It's simple!" she began. "If those guys, whoever they really are, are  _here,_  then that means that they're  _not_  at whichever dimension they originally came from." She took a moment to breathe in. "And  _that_  means if we go  _there_  now, we'll have free reign over the place, and then nothing can stop us from finding Sonic!"

Antoine shrugged. "I, erm, guess 'ow zat could be a good plan," he stammered.

"I guess it's better than nothin'," Trystan said as he brought his gun back up as he marched forward. "Still gotta find an elevator, but I can feel one close by. I can feel it in my  _loins."_

Although only slightly disgusted by his comment, Antoine followed Trystan as he marched forward, and Amy outpaced them both. They found their elevator in less time than anticipated, thankfully. Trystan called Amy over to it after she had gone farther ahead looking for said elevator. He really admired her dedication.

As Trystan pushed the call button, he kicked up the power on his revolver on top of turning the silencer on. The nanites swarmed out over the barrel and interlocked around it, and he took position a few feet away from the door. “Get ready to fight, in case we get a welcome wagon,” he advised. Amy squinted hard and whipped her hammer out of thin air, settling into a ready stance.

“Yes, yes, of course,” Antoine responded as he unsheathed his sabre and took a couple more steps back.

Trystan rolled his eyes. _Why do I fucking bother?_ he asked himself.

They all waited on bated breath until there was a dull buzzing sound coming from behind the doors. They slid open, and when Trystan saw the first hint of dull black metal behind them, he pulled the trigger. The two SWATbots behind the door got wasted by hard-light gunfire, but a third one, off to the left, had been half-concealed behind the circular walls of the room, and stuck to it when it recognized there was a threat.

The robot proceeded to activate its comms in order to broadcast a message for backup, but it was cut short as Trystan came around the corner with his knife hot and glowing. He jammed it under the metal helmet of the SWATbot and twisted it upward, cutting several cords and frying half its “brain” in the process. It fell to the ground with a loud crash.

Trystan stood over them, the barrel of his gun still smoking. He flicked his wrist to empty the bullet chamber, let the liquid go, and flicked it back into place. Antoine remained outside, trying to get a grip on what happened, and Amy was by Trystan’s side in a second, hammer still up.

“Hey, Ant! Help me haul these oversized can-openers out of the elevator!”

It took some prodding, but Trystan eventually got Antoine to at least touch the SWATbots, and with Amy’s added help, subsequently moved them out of the elevator so that if it was called, there wouldn’t be any evidence carried with it. Trystan had been carting the third SWATbot out of the elevator, the one he had “stabbed in the neck” so to speak, when he had an idea. Probably not worth it in the long run, but better safe than sorry.

“Antoine! Help me take this metal shell apart and gut it,” he instructed, trying to pry the SWATbot’s head clean off...much to Antoine’s shock.

“Wh-wha…?” Antoine stammered. “B-b-but, zat eez, erm...I suppose. But... _why?”_

“Yeah, Trystan, why would you want to tear those ugly things apart?” Amy added.

“Just help me, you’ll get it.” Trystan went about reaching into the SWATbot’s torso and extracting all the mechanical joints and wires, which Antoine hesitantly assisted him with. They had scooped out the mess in a few minutes, with Trystan periodically checking outside, as they had confined themselves to the elevator, as they could shut the doors on short notice to protect them from laser fire.

Eventually, they hollowed out the SWATbot’s suit, with Trystan cramming the parts into a nearby vent. With all the insides on the outside, he spent a couple more minutes forcibly detaching the individual pieces from the shell until he had them grouped up as parts of an outfit.

Trystan looked at his work, smiled, and then proceeded to slide one leg of the SWATbot’s casing up his own leg. It fit, even if it was a bit cold.

“M-M-Monsieur Treestan…?” Antoine hesitantly asked as he took a step backward. “W-w-what eez eet zat you are planning, exactly?”

Amy watched him, rubbing her chin as Trystan forced his leg down the other plated part of the casing, and then picked up the shell of the torso. “The backup plan,” he said, hefting the steel chestplate over his head and sliding it down. There was more than enough room for his head to go through the hole for the neck. Trystan bent his knees to check for discomfort. Finding a minimal amount, he picked up the shells of the SWATbot’s arms and donned them. They were a bit bulky, but still fit rather well, considering his thin build.

The last piece Trystan put on was the head plate, although he kept the LED lights for the visor inside and running to help sell the disguise. However, when he plunked it on his head, he could tell there was open space between it and the chestplate, revealing his neck. He sighed in aggravation and muttered obscenities to himself as he hunkered down inside the suit until he struck a balance between it looking natural and him not trying to compress himself so much.

“Bingo.” His voice came out slightly muffled, but it did make it difficult to tell who was in the suit. If Antoine hadn’t watched him put it all on, he might’ve mistaken Trystan for a SWATbot himself. “Antoine, give me your sword. Amy, I need your hammer for a minute.”

This request was sudden, but Antoine did unsheath it. He still held onto it and questioned, “And...may I be asking zis again... _why…?”_

Trystan scoffed and snatched the sword out of Antoine’s hands as quickly as he could, then aimed the arm of the shell that had the laser attached to it at him. “Surrender, you miserable mammal, and _maybe_ Doctor Robotnik will not torture you for quite as long,” he droned in the best mechanical voice he could.

Antoine froze up for a second and squeaked as if Trystan had suddenly just turned on him, but quickly came off it and straightened up indignantly. “My _God,_ you are ill-agreeable!”

Amy couldn’t help but giggle at that, and looked back to Trystan. “Pretty sure you mean _‘irredeemable,’_ Antoine” she pointed out. Trystan clutched the sword in one hand and turned Antoine around with the other. “Now put your hands behind your back and don’t make any sudden movements. I’d tell you to act scared, too, but you’re already shakin’ like an earthquake. Amy? Whaddaya think?”

She pursed her lips and considered Trystan’s mode of thought, but eventually took her hammer out and handed it over. Trystan was surprised to find it so light when it was capable of so much damage. “Just so you know, I’m gonna have to struggle a bit. It won’t completely sell the disguise if I don’t,” Amy warned.

There was a drawn-out sigh from inside the SWATbot suit. “Was afraid you’d say that.”

* * *

 

One seven-minute elevator ride later, Antoine and Trystan had infiltrated the bowels of the citadel, in the tunnels and coolant corridors meant for the main battery. When they stepped out of the elevator, they walked forward through a couple security checkpoints that had recognized Trystan as a SWATbot, something he was amazed by. As they continued on, Trystan whispered, “Robotnik really _did_ increase security down here,” mostly to himself.

Antoine shifted his arms, and Amy whispered, “Sonic _did_ say the security down here got more serious after we tried attacking once. I wasn’t a Freedom Fighter then, but from what he told me, it was pretty ba-”

_“Aie!!”_ Antoine yelped as Trystan tightened his hold on Antoine’s arms, forcing him to be still. It earned him a hissed, “What in zee name of all zat eez holy was _zat_ for?”

Trystan swiveled his head and looked down at him, accompanied by a small chuckle. “Can’t let it look like I’m _escorting_ you around the place. Gotta sell the disguise.”

“...Enjoy zis while eet lasts, overlander,” Antoine huffed.

This made Trystan and Amy giggle softly. “I’m glad to see you don’t take yourself too seriously, Trystan,” she whispered.

“I might not be as young as I once was, but I’ll gladly take being childish over being a grumpy old jackass,” he responded with a chuckle.

They marched on and reached a large sliding steel door. Trystan had barely approached it when it simply slid open. “How convenient,” Trystan muttered. They walked through a couple corridors of cooling tubes until a similar door appeared; when they approached this one, it opened up into the main battery area.

Which was crawling with SWATbots.

Acting on instinct, Trystan snatched Antoine by his collar and Amy by her wrist, and walked forward. This, understandably, drew the automatons’ attention, especially after Antoine shrieked. Amy nudged him to settle down, but even she looked slightly unnerved. One of them approached Trystan, and seemed to believe his disguise.

“What is going on here?”

Trystan racked his brains and spat out the most logical thing he could think of on such short notice, as monotone as possible. “I detected suspicious sounds emanating from a nearby ventilation shaft and upon further inspection, discovered these Freedom Fighters…” he articulated as he shook Antoine and Amy, “...Hiding inside. I am manually transporting it to the holding cells to await roboticization.”

“Excellent work,” the other SWATbot replied. “We shall escort you to the cells in case the others plan a resc-”

“No need,” Trystan cut it off. “It is only...I am having difficulty remembering their names. Anton and Amy...? It is only the cowardly one and this... _loud_ little girl. I have no reason to worry.” Amy started to struggle to escape his grip as he marched through the gathered group of robots, across the room, and out the door on the other side, calling him names all the way. When it slid closed, he dropped them both and bent over, breathing heavily.

Antoine was on the verge of a nervous breakdown. _“M-m-m-mon D-D-Dieu...! Mon cœur a presque arrêté! J'ai failli mourir...!”_

“Sounds delicious, Ant,” Trystan gasped, “But can you wait to share the recipe? Kinda tryin’ to get my heart in check, here.”

Antoine stared at Trystan with wide-eyed shock before collapsing on the ground and quietly sobbing to himself, and Amy, while leagues better off than they were, did seem to be breathing more heavily than usual, and sweating a little. Trystan would have felt worse for Antoine if his foreign accent wasn’t so damn funny most of the time. He waited for a couple more minutes, then walked them to a side-room filled with secondary control panels and ventilation cooling systems. It was a good place to hide in, so Trystan instructed, “Wait here. I’m gonna try something risky. If you hear explosions, it means something’s gone horribly wrong with my plan, and you need to get the hell out.”

Antoine nodded weakly, and Trystan, before leaving, added with a mirthful tone, “Hang on...Help me rip my arm off. I gotta get the Power Ring out.” Amy volunteered, and approached him. It took longer to get the SWATbot casing off than either of them cared to admit.

Before Trystan walked out of the room, Amy asked, “Are you gonna try charging that Ring like Sonic did with the last one?”

“I mean, that’s all we got goin’, right?” He left, his hand curled into a fist, rendering the Power Ring invisible. He reentered the main battery chamber.

No SWATbots questioned him any further, maybe because they thought it was a different model, and couldn’t tell most SWATbots apart from each other. It would make sense, given the exact same build and color scheme on each of them. Trystan shuffled up to the main battery and walked around it, glancing it up and down. He’d have to stay on the ground floor for a faster escape rather than staying stuck on the walkways and get surrounded. He stopped, turned his back to the battery and pressed himself up against it, uncurling his fist and pressing the Ring on the surface.

* * *

 

Snively remained in Robotnik’s throne room while he was busy offering his little gifts to the Suppression Squad, picking through files in the central computer, mumbling to himself as usual. “Hmm...hijack the core battery and blow this place sky high is out of the question...but it could be a last resort. I may have to...no, no that won’t work...Steal that old wizard’s computer when...and _if..._ uncle Julian gets his fat hands on it…? Hmm...that’s a possibility, but it’s a long shot...Maybe if I-”

His thoughts were interrupted when an alarm started blaring, and the lights in the throne room flickered before moving to emergency backup power. Snively froze, waiting for something to explode. Nothing happened, even as he strained his ears.

Then, he heard it. Heavy thumping, and it was coming from outside the room. Ever closer, until he saw, to his horror, Robotnik force the doors to his throne room open rather than wait for them to slide apart. And if looks could kill, his eyes would have shot out dual hydrogen bombs.

**“Snively…!”**

Snively had no time to scream, and in honesty, it would have been hard to hear over Robotnik’s livid voice. **“By God, there had better not be any** **_rats_ ** **crawling around in the main generator room again! Get out of my way!”** He threw Snively off to the side, and he fell flat on his back.

Robotnik refused to even look his way as he pressed a button on the control panel and leaned over a connected microphone.

* * *

 

 

**_“Attention, you thick-headed tin-cans! There’s something down there draining power from the main battery. Find it at once, or I’ll rip out your batteries to use as backup!”_ **   The comms shut off after a loud and unwieldy metallic thud, leaving all the SWATbot units in the room to look at each other.

Trystan noticed this, and guessed they must be scanning each other. He didn’t know what for, exactly, but figured this meant he was going to get found out sooner or later. He had to make a break for it.

That was when he noticed a SWATbot, directly to his left, staring him down. The LED visor was slowly blinking red, and Trystan started to feel his armpits getting damp. In that moment, he knew what he had to do.

“Yolo!”

The silence was broken as metal crashed into metal and the SWATbot was sent backward after Trystan punched it right in the visor. He didn’t stick around to see how the others would react, although the lasers screeching past him gave him some semblance of what was happening. He ran straight out of the room and back down the hallway he had been in, and barreled through the doors of the closet he had left Antoine and Amy.

Antoine was still there, thankfully, and looking just as pale as ever. Paler, after he saw Trystan come crashing in, and had shrieked his lungs out. Trystan, in response, clasped his metal gauntlet over his mouth. “Either scream when we’re safe or we’re dead, Ant!” he commanded.

Amy rushed over to him, exclaiming, “Trystan, what’s going on!?”

He didn’t respond with words, instead loosening his grip of the Ring in his free hand and he chucked it as hard as he could at the door; just as said door opened up with a brigade of SWATbots behind it, the Ring exploded to life, knocking all of them backward and over.

Wasting no time, Trystan half-guided, half-dragged a still-terrified Antoine toward the glowing portal a few feet away, ordering Amy to “ignore the robots and move.” She looked at him, but did as he said. When he got close enough, he lifted up and practically tossed Antoine into it, and his screams were cut off as he vanished into the pool of liquid light. Trystan dove in after him, and after his head decided to stop feeling light and dizzy, he found himself on what he guessed was a rooftop of some kind.

And he had landed really awkwardly on his back, to make things a little worse. “Fucking **ow.”**

Amy had experienced roughly the same thing as Trystan, minus the pain in his back. She struggled to lift herself up, yet the dizziness was quite possibly milder than what she experienced leaving the Special Zone. When she did get up, she looked at the two boys and muttered, “You...you two okay…?”

Antoine was a couple feet away from him, flat on his back, and his eyes were glassy. He tried moving his arm. It felt like it was made of wet cardboard. “...I am not feeling my legs…” he mumbled.

After a few minutes of feeling half-dead, Trystan and Antoine managed to stumble to their feet. Trystan was fairly certain that a nano morphine vial wouldn’t ease the nausea, but he wished he hadn’t left the things at home to at least try. “...It might help me avoid barfing in this steel container…” he whispered, holding his arms over his stomach. He threw his helmet off, followed by the gauntlets, then he struggled with the SWATbot torso for a few minutes, then finally stepped out of the leggings. His clothes were practically soaked with sweat and leftover oil and grease.

Antoine, after propping himself up to a sitting position held his nose. _“Augh…!_ You reek, Monseiur Treestan.”

Amy cupped her hand over her face as well, to serve as a very rudimentary filter. “Ugh, Antoine’s right…”

Trystan ignored them, and spat as he dusted himself off. “That whole process of making a ring was _not_ fucking worth it.”

Amy stared at him for a moment. “Wait, if you _knew_ how to make a Warp Ring, why did you risk it in the first place? Don’t we already _have_ one?” she asked as she stared at Trystan quizzically.

“Kid, If I stole the first one, Sally would’a noticed pretty damn quick,” Trystan replied. He tapped his temple and, weakly, flashed a sly grin. “But you can’t get caught stealing a Warp Ring if you just make one yourself.” He stood up, and looked out across the rooftops of where they were. It was a city, faded in magnificence, but still it stood. The architecture was nothing like an overlander city. It had to be Mobotropolis. “...Or at least its mirror image,” Trystan considered.

Antoine and Amy walked up to either side of him, and stared out across anti-Mobotropolis as well. After a few more minutes had passed, Antoine looked up at Trystan, still gazing out, and now focused on the castle in the distance. “...M-monsieur Treestan...? ‘Ow will we be getting down from zis height?” He turned back around just to make sure, and added, “Zere eez no stairway to help us reach zee ground floor.”

Trystan glanced down over the side of the building and pulled out his knife. “Like men.” He clambered over the edge of the roof, hanging off it, and drove his knife into the side of the building stucco, thanks to the reinforced steel and plasma blade.

This, understandably, made Antoine start sweating again, on top of biting his nails. “B-b-but zat seems v-v-ve-very _dangerous,”_ he stammered.

Trystan looked down at the ground about fifty feet below, and then back up at him. “We’re five stories off the ground, Ant. It might _hurt,_ but the only way to _die_ from up here is to swan dive into the pavement. Amy,” he said, holding out his hand.

She looked cautious, but came a bit closer and bent down to slightly higher than his head. “Climb aboard. I doubt that hammer’s gonna be much help as an anchoring point.”

* * *

 

Rotor was reclining in one of the chairs in his lab, absentmindedly smacking a paddleball around as Tails worked away at a keyboard. The entire terminal was quiet, save for the sound of keys being hit, until Scourge, Sally, and Bunnie finally entered the room. Scourge perched himself on a desk over to the right side while everyone else stood around. Sally looked much happier than she had the day before, and was holding Nicole up and clicking on a few keys, working away.

“Hey, little man,” Scourge said to Tails. “Still workin’ on that, eh…plane of yours?” He kept his fake smile up, and he had to admit, after talking to Miles so much, it was hard to keep the sarcastic edge out of his voice.

Tails looked at him with a proud smile. “Nope! Finished it a few days ago. We’ll be ready for a test flight by tomorrow, Sonic!”

Scourge nodded. “Good...good…” Having to fake enthusiasm was starting to wear on him. _Luckily,_ he thought, _I won’t have to put up with it for much longer._

Sally pressed a few more keys on Nicole’s keypad, and put her away and looked up. “Well, I’ve got _some_ good news,” she said. “We managed to track activity in the Epsilon district of Robotropolis, and I think it might mean trouble if we don’t do something about it.”

“Doesn’t sound like good news, Sally,” Rotor replied.

“Well, hold on,” she continued, “From what I heard, there’s been large shipments of steel and circuitry going into the factories in the district. It sounds like Robotnik’s building something.” She didn’t notice Scourge smirking to himself in the corner of the room. “However, I’m pretty sure that if we can infiltrate whichever factory is working on assembling the logical components, we can rewire or hack them into working for us...”

“As our own weapon to hold over Robotnik,” Tails finished.

“Exactly,” she finished, pointing at Tails.

“Guess we’d better stop waitin’ around then,” Scourge interrupted, hopping off the desk. “Fat-boy’s probably gettin’ miles ahead of us already.”

Sally shook her head. “We’re getting there, Sonic. We still need to get some supplies before we head out.” She crossed her arms and made a playful smirk. “Or has your brain gone so far ahead so fast that you forgot that already?”

Scourge was tempted to blurt out a “fuck you,” before he reminded himself this wasn’t _Alicia_ he was talking to, and opted to just smile and shrug. “Then I guess we should start _gearing up,_ then, right…?” he instigated.

Sally walked over to him and gently pushed his shoulder. “Keep your shirt on, Sonic. We’re getting there. Come on, everyone!” She waved her hand, telling them to follow her out, and Scourge immediately set off.

He raced back to his cabin like lightning, smirking to himself. Finally, _time to have some fun._

Meanwhile, as everyone else filtered out, Bunnie tapped Sally on the shoulder and whispered, “Sugah, y’all seen An-twan? ‘Cause Ah ain’t seen’im since last night.”

“He’s probably cooped himself up in his cabin, cooking, or...whatever else he does. I think he’s fine.” She flashed Bunnie a wide smile. “Why? What’s got you so worried?”

“Call it ladies’ int’twition,” Bunnie said. “Normally, Ah wouldn’t bat an eye, but us’lly he’s wanderin’ around out heah more oft’n. Ya think som’thin’s wrong?”

Sally took a few more steps ahead of her and began making her way back to her own quarters. “Knowing him, he’s probably still combing his hair,” she replied with a small laugh. “Don’t worry about him.”

* * *

 

“I...zink we’re lost.”

“We’re _not_ lost, Antoine,” Amy grumbled as she marched ahead.

“Yeah,” Trystan said. “We just misplaced ourselves.”

“You’re not helping!” Amy barked.

The three intrepid explorers had made their way through back alleys and across streets for at least thirty minutes, but all the roads in this dark mirror of Mobotropolis felt like they only looped back in on each other. If that wasn’t enough, any actual civilians either ducked into the nearest building and locked the door or, if they looked particularly nasty, laughed and spat in their faces before any of them could ask for directions. And Trystan didn’t know how Antoine or Amy felt about it, but he was getting tired of trying to catch a bunch of jittery animals.

He was extremely good at hiding it too, as he walked along with his upper torso leaning back and his arms crossed casually. Amy was leading the way after pushing Antoine aside when they realized he’d been leading them all in circles fairly quickly. They’d managed to glimpse the royal castle of anti-Mobotropolis sometime before, and had been running like mad dogs in that direction.

Or at least, they tried to remain heading in that direction.

“I am becoming unable to feel my legs again…” Antoine sighed.

Amy turned to him and put her hands on her hips, still walking backward. “Buck up, Antoine! We need to get Sonic out of wherever he is! He’s counting on us!”

Antoine flinched, but slowly replied, “Erm...does he ‘ave to be counting on us zis very day…?”

**“Yes!”** Antoine yelped and covered his face, having awoken the wrath of Godzilla’s little pink pet. “I don’t care whether you like him or not, Antoine, but he’s the only Sonic we’ve got! We’ve come too far to go home now, and by God, I’ll _haul_ you by your _collar_ the rest of the way if I have to-”

“Hold up.”

Trystan abruptly stood straight and took a step forward, quickly garnering Antoine and Amy’s attention. “Look.”

He pointed ahead, and they saw a mobian vagabond in a long, patched up coat trudging across a T-intersection in front of them. It didn’t take long for Amy to jog forward and call out to get his attention.

Of course, one the mobain heard it and saw the three strangers, his eyes went wide and his hips turned. Trystan knew what that meant, and he was **not** in the mood to chase another little hairball. “Oh, no you don’t!” Trystan pulled his revolver out and pumped up its power. “Freeze, you jumpy little shit!”

The mobian heard his voice, and it took him a second to register there was a gun being aimed at him, but thankfully (at least for those three), he froze and cowered on the ground. “Oh, my God! Don’t shoot me, don’t shoot me!” he pleaded.

“Trust me, buddy-boy, that’s the _last_ thing I have on my to-do list.” He marched forward, his gun still out and whirring as Amy and Antoine kept making exclamations of “What are you doing?” and “Trystan, have you lost your mind?” He marched right up to the mobian and ordered him to stand up, which, unsurprisingly, his “hostage” did.

“Wh...what do you want from me…?” the mobian stammered.

“We need some god- **damn** directions, and everyone else we’ve tried asking either _ran_ off or told us to _fuck_ off, and I’m _sick_ of walking. I only have one question: that castle-”

“Castle…?”

“Yeah, big castle in the middle of the damn city. How do we get there, how do we get in?”

“The royal castle…?” The mobian’s eyes darted around as he thought up an answer, and he then pointed forward. “Th-this road will take you to a main avenue in twenty minutes that’ll lead straight to the front gates of the castle if you go left,” he explained, “but you can’t get in.”

Trystan scoffed. “Not with that fuckin’ attitude.”

He shoved the gun back into its holster and took off down the side road, leaving a confused Antoine and shocked Amy behind. Not wanting to be left completely alone, though, Antoine made a beeline after Trystan, and Amy left after she quickly thanked the poor fool who had been on the receiving end of Trystan’s revolver.

He led the way, down the street and out into the main road, and abruptly hung left, charging forward down the lane. This resulted in a five-minute run that finally led up to a massive wall surrounding the castle. Trystan stopped once it was in clear sight, and Amy and Antoine stopped right behind him. Their goal was in sight, though there was a problem…

There were two guards standing in front of one of the massive gates to the inside, clad in such scruffy-looking uniforms that they looked more like mercenaries than actual palace guards...in fact, maybe they were. But as soon as they saw the three strangers approaching them, they both brought up the sleek, chrome rifles they were sporting and held them at the ready while calling, “Halt…! Who are you, what’re you doing here?”

This, of course, caused all three of the others to freeze and put up their hands to varying degrees, Antoine’s being the highest of all (in other news, the sky is blue). Trystan jumped back slightly with his hands up and palms out, and Amy was the only one who didn’t flinch. In fact, she actually took a step forward.

“Well, if you really need to know, we’re here looking for a friend,” she began.

One of the guards sneered. “We can’t help ya. Now, get lost, kiddies,” he huffed after taking a menacing step forward.

Amy squinted at him and crossed her arms. “Well, I think you already have, actually!” she retorted. “See, I’ve got suspicions. I’m looking for my _boyfriend,_ and since you two are guarding the place that _I_ think he’s being kept, that just makes me _think_ that I’m right!”

The two guards turned to look at each other, muted shock on their faces, but one of them just as quickly stepped forward and hoisted the butt of his rifle up to strike Amy.

“I told ya to shove **off,** you little-”

He never finished his sentence, because Amy was quicker than him. In a flash, she’d snatched her hammer out of hammerspace and had blindsided him across the side of his head. If that didn’t cause a skull fracture, careening into the wall behind him would have. Amy quickly turned to face the other guard, who, to her horror, was glaring at her down the scope of a proton rifle. He _would_ have taunted her...but after the sound of a different gun going off, he was severely lacking the grey matter to do so; his body fell to the side with a hole in his temple, and Amy whirled around to look at Trystan, who was holding his gun up, and pointed straight ahead. The quiet fizzling of the plasma substance left over by the nanites still hung in the air.

All the same, Trystan relaxed and spun the revolver around his finger before holstering it. He looked around at the other two; Antoine looked absolutely white and mortified, and Amy seemed more shocked than anything. He eyed them both carefully and said at length, “In my opinion, I think it was a better choice to shoot first and let God sort the rest out.”

Antoine took another look at the dead mobian just a few feet away and cupped his hand over his mouth. “...I am going to be _very_ sick…”

“I...I don’t think you needed to _kill_ him, but…” Amy stuttered.

“Sorry, kid. Didn’t have the time to switch to the ‘taser’ setting,” he said with an undertone of guilt. “I just-” Trystan stopped when he heard and saw Antoine retch right beside him and remained quiet until the poor guy was done. “...Just started flyin’ on autopilot.” He remained silent for another moment before piping up, “We should get inside. I imagine _some-_ body heard that gunshot, and we need to make ourselves scarce.”

“Right,” Amy replied. “I...think we’ll need a key.”

* * *

 

 

After crawling through some air ducts, dodging laser grids, and swiftly incapacitating a few robian workers, Sally was kneeling in front of “steel door #14739,” and punched a few keys on Nicole. She squinted as she watched hundreds of glyphs and numbers start rolling down the small screen. It eventually stopped, and little by little, different combinations got phased out and disappeared, leaving only one left. She looked up.

The heavy steel door was dimly whirring, but eventually it clicked and slid open. Outside, it was muggy and half-lit at midday, as usual. There was a large scrapyard several feet forward and to the right, and on the other side was a large parking bay for ground transports. “Nice work, Nicole.” Sally slunk out of the doors and into the yard, over to the ground transports, and stuck to the side of some sort of dark ash-grey ATV. She remained completely quiet for a moment and then took a peek around the corner and whistled.

Bunnie stuck her head out from behind a second transport unit, Scourge popped his head out of a manhole and clambered out. He was followed closely by Tails and Rotor. The four Freedom Fighters plus the resident double-agent met up and quickly ducked back through the door Nicole had hacked, Sally explaining a few things she’d found in Nicole’s databanks along the way. “This is one of the main assembly factories,” she stated, “I hate to admit it, but Robotnik was actually being extremely discreet with getting the supplies he needed in here. When I managed to read the records in the database, they said the factory had already received seventy shipments of steel, seventy shipments of copper, and aluminum to be used in wiring, and thirty shipments of silicon.”

“...That doesn’t seem to be as bad as you’re making it out to be,” Rotor said, even though that much raw material couldn’t go into anything less but a new death machine.

Sally grimaced. “Yeah, but those shipments were _received_ about two days ago.” She ran her hand through her hair and added, “Say what you want about Robotnik, but he’s efficient at whatever new monster he decides to make.”

Scourge grinned to himself, barely keeping his excited anticipation down; nobody noticed.

Tails jumped and started hovering in midair. “What’s first, Aunt Sally?” he asked, as he turned around.

“We find the main production rooms of this factory. Once we’re there, you and Rotor hack into the mainframe, and see if you can rewrite the coding of what’s being made. Bunnie, Sonic, and I will be running distraction,” she explained.

_Time to keep the disguise up._ “Or we could just destroy whatever it is and skip bein’ fancy,” Scourge scoffed.

“...That’s ‘Plan B,’” Sally answered. “Now let’s go!” They all made their way through a couple narrow and dark metal hallways before reaching one of the main factory production centers, at least in part. It was mostly just computer terminals, quietly humming. Even though they were on and working, the lights were still off. Everyone looked a bit more nervous than they once were, except Scourge. He faked it well enough.

“...Looks like a...a server room,” Rotor muttered.

“It is,” Sally replied in a whisper. “Keep moving.”

They all crept forward and around a corner to see a the next part of the main assembly plant. The room was more long than high or even wide. There was, however, a second level, separate from the mechanical facilities, that seemed to serve as an observation deck with added computer terminals, and metal catwalks between them. Everything was dark and empty. The machines were quiet. Nothing was moving, except themselves.

Bunnie and Sally crept forward, ahead of everyone else, and Rotor began inspecting the assembly machines, intrigued by the fact that they were off. Tails stayed close to Scourge, who was almost impressed by the oppressive atmosphere Robotnik had managed to set up. He grinned. _This’ll make their betrayed expressions even better,_ he thought.

Sally glanced around the upper floor and into the windows. “Everyone be careful,” she instructed. “There could be something watching us, whether it’s just a camera or-”

There was a distinct sound. The sound of a metal door sliding open and shut. Everyone froze and Sally quickly got them all to hunker down behind some of the assembly conveyors. Scourge was the only one who didn’t look as panicked as the others. Then there were the footsteps. It sounded like there were several people running across the metal catwalks at the far end of the room. That’s when the lights came on.

Bunnie poked her head out from behind the conveyor, gasped, and quickly ducked back down. Sally tapped her shoulder and whispered, “Bunnie, what happened? What did you see?”

“Y’all won’t believe me, Sally-girl…”

A dozen or so feet above tham and at the far end of the factory, Miles, Alicia, Patch, Boomer, and Buns were waiting, leaning on the railing, waiting. Just waiting.

Buns tapped her foot a few times before Miles shushed her, as the metal-on-metal sound was rather noticeable. She didn’t take it in stride. “Miles, Ah’m gettin’ bored. Let’s get th’ party over with already, huh?”

Miles huffed and checked a small radar device had had on his hand. There were two dots approaching them quickly; in fact, they were both only about one-hundred feet away and counting. “We need to wait until Robotnik gets here, Buns,” Miles chided. “Or keep our doubles busy until he gets here, if need be.”

When Bunnie told them who was out there waiting for them, everyone’s eyes went wide. “Are they working with Robotnik?” Rotor asked.

“It would explain how they got here,” Tails replied.

“We know you’re out there,” came Alicia’s voice, echoing around the compound. “Stop being cowards.”

Scourge concealed another grin as he stood up along with everyone else and slowly made his way into the center lane between assembly lines with everyone else. The two groups stared each other down for a couple minutes before Sally decided to start throwing questions. “So...how’d you get here?”

“We walked, same way as you,” Alicia called back.

“I highly doubt you can _walk_ from one dimension to another,” she said.

Miles chuckled as he walked in front of Alicia and flipped a Warp Ring out of the cuff on his sleeve. “We used one of these…” He smirked when he saw everyone else except Scourge go wide-eyed from shock. “But other than that, Alicia is correct.”

“H-how…?” Bunnie stuttered. “H-how’d y’all get yer filthy mitts on a Warp Ring?”

“You forget,” Miles noted, “whatever resources _you_ have access to, we do, too.”

“And we can make’em better,” Boomer chuckled.

“That may be so,” Sally challenged, “but _we_ still have Sonic on our side. That already puts us in a better position than you.”

The Supression Squad all took a quick glance at each other...then looked back down on the Freedom Fighters with mocking sneers. Nobody paid much mind to it, until they noticed Scourge chuckling to himself. The laughter got progressively deeper and more ominous, and it prompted Sally to tentatively ask, “S...Sonic…? Are you okay…?”

Scourge didn’t answer. He stopped laughing, but remained still, his head bowed. Then, in a flash, he ran off, circled back around, throwing doors open as he raced through a couple back rooms and up some stairs before making it to the catwalk, stopping on a dime in the middle of the Supression Squad. He turned to look down on the Freedom Fighters and said nothing for a moment. Then, he took off his vest, tossed it over the railing, held out his hand and ordered, “Jacket.”

Alicia got a better grip on an extra leather jacket she was holding and threw it at Scourge. It hit him in the side of the head and hung there for a second before he whipped it off of his neck and threw it on. The Freedom Fighters watched the whole thing, tangible fear in their eyes. Sally could barely bring herself to speak.

“Sonic…?”

Scourge’s grin got wider and more malicious as he corrected her, “Close, but no cigar. I think the name you’re lookin’ for here is ‘Scourge.’”

* * *

 

Thirty minutes had passed and there was still no hint that Sonic was being held anywhere within the walls of the castle. The corridors were dark, dim light filtered through all the stained glass windows giving the impression the castle had been abandoned for years. Amy, Trystan, and Antoine had been creeping through long, echoic hallways and lavish waiting rooms.

“I don’t wanna say it, but we’re getting nowhere fast,” Trystan said as he fidgeted with his gun.

“You need to have some more patience,” Amy spat. “Sonic’s around here somewhere.” It was obvious that by now, the stress of looking for her crush was getting to her.

“I wish I were cooking,” he muttered. They kept walking and eventually got back into the throne room, dim light filtering through the circular stained glass window. “...Pretty sure we’ve walked through this entire castle,” he said at length.

Amy groaned and covered her forehead with her hand. But she stopped, suddenly, and turned to face the boys. “Antoine!”

“Aie...! I mean, _oui, oui,_ Amy. You are in need of somezing from me…?” he asked tentatively.

“Antoine,” Amy began again, “did Castle Acorn have a dungeon before Robotnik took over?”

Antoine scratched his chin and pondered for a minute. He started pacing, too. “My memory of zee castle eez not as sharp as eet used to be…” he said, “But...I believe…” he took a few steps forward, into the center of the throne room, and turned himself counterclockwise, trying to think of which direction it would be in. “I zink zat old King Maximilian had an entrance to some ‘olding cells in zee...eastern wing…?”

Amy took off to the left, charging down a left hallway, and Trystan followed her while Antoine yelped at almost being left alone and took up the rear. They power-walked through the halls, footsteps echoing off every surface, rounded several corners, and found nothing. It wasn’t until they were about to make another right turn that Antoine cleared his throat and spoke up. “Erm...I do not want to be alarming you but…”

“‘But’ what, Antoine?” Amy asked as she put her hands on her hips.

Antoine flinched as he stammered, “I...I, eh...I zink we ‘ave passed ze entrance to ze dungeons.”

“I didn’t see any damn doors on the way here,” Trystan muttered as he crossed his arms, “just a bunch of side tables, vases, and that ugly as all hell painting of Sally’s old man. Or at least her evil clone’s old man.” He looked over at the other two and hastily added, “Don’t tell her I said _any_ of that.”

Amy paused and rubbed her chin for a minute. “Antoine,” she began; Antoine, of course stood straight up and at attention, not wanting to make her more frustrated than she probably was already. “Can you remember where the entrance to the dungeon _was,_ at least?” she said.

He shot a glance up to the ceiling, searching his memory, but as soon as he nodded and had begun to say, “Yes,” Amy cut him off. “Take us there, right **now.”** Antoine flinched and turned on his heel to retrace their steps, something Trystan groaned about before a look from Amy shut him up. They walked back through two hallways and one extravagantly decorated lounge before Antoine slowed and stopped in front of the wall in a long corridor.

“Zis eez...ze only place I remembair a door zat my father would not allow me to go eenside,” he pointed out.

Amy and Trystan walked up to the wall and looked it over. It was smooth, painted metal, just like most of the floors, and colored a dull gold. “Well, there’s **gotta** be something we’re missing…” Amy pondered. Trystan said nothing, but just to say he tried, he ran his hand across the wall, left to right, up and down. He back away and thought for a moment, then walked up to it again and rapped on it with his knuckles. The sound that came out seemed...airy. Intrigued, he tried again, and harder. The airy sound became much more pronounced.

“...Sounds like it’s hollow,” he said at last. Amy swiveled her head toward him, her eyes wide.

“‘Ollow?” Antoine repeated.

“Yeah. Must’ve taken out the door and put in a hidden switch to open the wall somewhere. We just gotta find-”

Trystan was cut off as Amy shoved him aside and pulled her Piko-Piko Hammer out of nowhere, shouting “No time for that!” In the next instant, she had swung at the wall, putting all her weight behind it, and the resounding _*CLANG*_ of metal drowned out a cry of “Woah, woah, holy _shit!”_ from Trystan. The wall was now heavily dented, and Amy’s strike had managed to chip off some of the paint. She scowled, cracked her neck, and swung one more time.

The wall gave way, creating a neat little hole a few inches off the floor, the steel around it dented and bent inward. Inside, there were fluorescent lights illuminating a stone stairway that led down at least two floors. Trystan and Antoine were bent over a few feet back from the hole, covering their ears while Amy stood in front of it, her hammer resting triumphantly on her shoulder.

She smirked and turned to look at the boys. “It’ll take more than some crummy _wall_ to keep me away from Sonic.”

“Yeah, no kiddin’.” Trystan observed. “It’ll take an army from hell and the devil himself.”

They all readied themselves in case there might be guards just beyond the stairs and started their descent. The three went down the full flight of stairs and veered off to the right at a corner, leading to a heavy steel door that Amy got open after Trystan “loosened the locks for her.” Said door lead into a corridor of cells with photon portcullises, guaranteed to fry someone’s hands to a crisp if they so much as touched them, and the actual steel the entire floor had transitioned into was stainless and seemed undentable.

“These lights are too damn bright for a dungeon,” Trystan muttered, holding his arm over his eyes.

“For zee time in being, I am agreeing with you, Monsieur Treestan,” Antoine replied.

They walked all the way to the end of the corridor, where there was another steel door waiting, although they found nothing of note in any of the cells. When Antoine voiced his concerns about the place being barren, Amy shrugged him off with “Sonic’s on a different floor from us. He’s _gotta_ be!”

Trystan shot the locks off the door this time, and opened it to find another stairway leading a floor down. This time, however, most of the lights were off, leaving only dim outlines of the walls and corners below. Trystan was still pointing his revolver down the steps, and Amy was standing battle-ready next to him; Antoine was too busy biting his nails to pull his sabre out.

After a tense and unsure silence, Trystan made his way down the steps, followed by Amy, and Antoine cowering in the rear. The walk down the stairs felt hours longer than it was, and moving past cells that looked exactly like the previous ones with dimmer lighting was unnerving in and of itself. They proceeded forward slowly, until they heard a voice call out from the end of the hallway. “Oh, God, if ya come back to gloat more, please, just **kill** me already.”

Trystan stopped, trying to process it, but Amy was already a few steps ahead of him. She could pick that voice out of an entire city if she had finer-tuned ears. Dashing all the way to the end of the hall and looking to her left revealed Sonic himself, dressed in a greasy leather jacket and black jeans, with a crushed pair of sunglasses in the corner of the cell. He had been pacing, but upon seeing Amy and doing a double take, his eyes nearly fell out of his head. “Wha…! Amy...?”

She grinned and flourished her hammer before putting it away. “That’s right…!”

Sonic remained staring at her, stunned, for another moment before putting on a resigned smile and leaning against the wall of his cell. “Man, and here I thought being in a totally separate dimension would keep me away from you,” he joked.

Amy gasped and indignantly put her hands on her hips. “You know, you _could_ outwardly show a _little_ gratitude! I wouldn’t have come all the way here if it wasn’t for you!” she responded indignantly. Antoine and Trystan came up to check on the two hedgehogs bantering like an old married couple. Sonic shrugged. “I’m plenty grateful! I’m just amazed ya managed to get here so fast…”

“Well, don’t doubt overlander stubbornness, ‘cause myself and these two went through hell and high water to get here to spring _you_ out,” Trystan interjected, “Damn, I should tell you the legend of Overlord Calleus. The bastard straight-up _refused to die_ after he got stabbed twice in the chest-”

“But of course we got ‘ere in zee brink of a fly!” Antoine declared proudly, shoving Trystan aside. “When Monsieur Treestan and Amy suspected zat you had been replaced, I immediately charged out to find you. And now, I can proudly say zat _I_ am zee one who saved _Sonic_ for once!”

Everyone grinned, except Trystan, and Sonic pointed at the jail cell bars casually and commented, “Might have more impact if you actually shut down the glowy crap on the bars first, Ant. And I’m pretty sure it’s said, ‘blink of an _eye.’_ ”

Antoine immediately came down from his high horse and muttered, “Erm, yes, zat’s true,” under his breath. Amy got in front of a control panel on the left wall between two jail cells, and after careful consideration, smashed the thing into the wall. The photon bars shorted out and disappeared, leaving Sonic free to go. His trademark cheeky grin spread across his face as he walked out a free hedgehog. “Finally!” he exclaimed. “Was gettin’ cramped in there, felt the damn _walls_ closing in.”

“You’re welcome!” Amy said proudly.

Sonic rolled his eyes, and then looked himself over. “Hey, uh...you guys don’t mind if we stop at Knothole real quick?” he asked. “These clothes are ug- _lee.”_

Trystan snickered, crossing his arms. “‘Ugly?’ You’re bein’ generous, Sonic.” He walked into the middle of the hall and took out the Warp Ring and checked it over. It’s subtle white glow had returned, indicating it was fully charged. “So, yes, you **better** believe we’re stopping to get you a change of clothes.”

“Hey, you’re wearin’ a dirty hoodie and worn jeans, you’re not exactly walkin’ down the fashion runways, either,” Sonic retorted with a hearty chuckle.

Trystan rolled his eyes and tossed the Ring forward. It arced through the air and exploded to life, forming a vortex between the fabric of reality. He motioned toward it with his head before Sonic went diving in, and everyone else followed.

* * *

 

Everyone was frozen in shock. “But...but...Ah don’t undahstand what’s goin’ on heah!” Bunnie cried. “Wha’d y’all do with Sonic?”

Scourge snickered and leaned back on the rails. “Don’t you worry, toots. He’s chillin’.”

“Yes,” Miles cut in, “He’s ‘chilling’ back at _our_ Castle Acorn.”

“Listen, honey, did you **honestly** think I’d let that goody-two-shoes lookalike of mine actually _win_ that race he challenged me to?” Scourge mockingly asked as he leaned on Miles’ shoulder. “If ya did, you’re just as dense as he was.” The sound of small alarms going off drew everyone’s attention to a platform behind a layer of plexiglass on the second floor. It lit up, and the alarms kept going as it raised up, disappeared from sight, and came back down with Doctor Robotnik and Snively standing at attention; the doctor wore the same malicious smile on his face that he always had when he was sure he’d won.

They stepped off the platform and approached the window as Robotnik started to monologue. “Hello again, Freedom Fighters. I must say I’m both impressed and disappointed that you didn’t dissolve as I had hoped when I banished your best and brightest to the Special Zone.” He glared down at the gathered group. “...Mostly disappointed. But luckily for me, I’ve been able to make some new friends, and for once, they have been _most_ successful in removing the most _annoying little problem_ from the equation,” he seethed. “And to make it even **better…”**

A door on the furthest end of the plant slid up, shrouded in shadow. “...I’ve been working on a special gift for you…” Everything was quiet for a moment, but deep in the veil of blackness, two piercing red irises flared to life, and metal clanking was heard. The two eyes left the darkness behind, revealing itself to be a metal hedgehog-android. Its plating and paint looked basic, but the message was clear: this robot was meant to imitate (and make a mockery of) Sonic himself. It even cracked its neck and rubbed its finger under its nose.

“Say hello to Metal Sonic, version one-point-zero!” Robotnik exclaimed.

* * *

 

The Great Forest was settling into dusk, which made ducking out of the way of low-hanging branches a full-concentration job. Trystan was good at multitasking...according to him. Sonic had Amy riding on his back, not willing to slow down after the villagers of Knothole told them the others had gone out on a search-and-destroy mission not even three hours ago (along with the confusion of Sonic being separated from the group when he had “already left with them”). Trystan himself had given Sonic an extra comm link from the care package the Filii Rubrum had sent, though by now, Antoine was holding onto his sweatshirt for dear life as they raced through the forest, and then, finally, out into the broad, open field on the city limits with Robotropolis’ menacing steel spires towering over them in the distance. More importantly, Sonic had his spare change of clothes on, and Trystan was equipped with several syringes of nanomorphine...just in case.

“How long’s it gonna take us to get to where we need to go?” Sonic called over to Trystan.

“At this rate?” he replied. “...Fuck, could take us upwards of...thirty minutes. Why?”

Sonic shot hm a sideways glance and a smirk. “The others might start the party without us and not leave anything for us when they’re done!”

“I wish I had your optimism,” Trystan said. They raced on, into the city limits, and across a fast-transit overpass used to ship raw material and robians across the city in a hurry. From high up in the sky, partially concealed by smog clouds and partially by a local cloaking device, they were watched by both binoculars and radar. The light being distorted around the edges of the aircraft denoted it was a kind of dual-bladed military helicopter, with engines and blades on both the left and right of the main body of the craft itself.

“Attention helibird _Zeus_ , come in, _Zeus,”_ the pilot said. “The Freedom Fighters we’ve got on lock’re going...southeast at approximately two hundred thirty-four kilometers per hour, over,” the pilot of the bird said.

“Roger that, Verifex Amillus,” said another pilot over the radio. “We’ve got the spider drone pinged and are holding course. How are your troops, over?”

The co-pilot turned around quickly to look into the holding compartment of the chopper. The heli was holding at least fifty overlander men and women, clad in red titanium-alloy armor with a black steel-silicon kevlar hybrid uniform under it. Some had helmets that wrapped around their heads but left their faces open while some didn’t have helmets at all; they had plasma rifles attached via maglocks to the back of their combat armor, some looking sleek, while some looked like deployable chainguns. Most of them were standing, holding onto the support poles at the ends of each row of four seats, chittering amongst each other. All were excited; all were nervous. It was a matter of the passage of time.

“They’re gettin’ antsy, Verifex Trinity,” he replied, “Sounds like they’re ready to scrap, over.”

“Seems normal,” Trinity responded. She paused for a moment and asked, “Can you get a read of who we’re following?”

Amillus nodded to his co-pilot, who looked at a couple screens on the dashboard and began fiddling with the touch screens. “Uhm...give me one moment…” he muttered, trying to concentrate and squint through the smoke in front of the exterior cameras. “Looks like...well, Sonic the Hedgehog is _definitely_ one of them…Then there’s...his most adoring fan, the-the pink one...Amy…?” He looked over at Amillus, who shrugged. “...Also, the coyote...Antoine, I think...and then there’s...yeah, there’s the Cronus kid himself. At least I know _him!”_

“Roger that, helibird _Dionysius._ Stay on course. Inform us when the spider drone’s ping stops giving off a motion signal. Over and out.”

“Over and out,” Amillus replied.

Back on the ground, Sonic and company had been traveling for at least twenty minutes, and had managed to spearhead far enough inward to reach the “inner city” districts; of which, the “Epsilon” branch was part of. After making a risky dive off the overpass (a maneuver that only Antoine hadn’t come out of well), the group found themselves running over musty asphalt streets and side roads until they came to a large, two story warehouse. The top was mostly flat, and it looked unassuming enough, but this is where the villagers told them the other Freedom Fighters were off to.

Sonic managed to find an unguarded door, something that bugged him, and he made sure everyone knew about it by declaring “Buttnik wouldn’t even leave his _moustache wax_ unguarded,” and both he and Trystan broke the door open. Inside was a dimly lit hallway, and the four of them crept forward, Trystan’s gun at the ready, Amy’s hammer out, Sonic at the ready, and Antoine shakily holding his sabre and biting his nails with his free hand. They moved slowly, silently, through a couple hallways. Eventually, there were noises everyone could hear, echoing across the walls.

“Sounds like a muffled conversation...they’re still in here!” Amy said.

“Hmph. So no fightin’ yet,” Sonic replied as he crossed his arms.

Antoine swallowed hard. “Z-z-zat eez not such a _bad_ theeng, you know…”

They kept moving, eventually finding a long hallway that was bare, save for a heavy steel door at the end, right in the middle of a T-section. Sonic jogged up to it and was joined by the others soon enough. The muffled talking grew louder...then stopped.

Trystan was about to ask how they should open it when the sound of metal-on-metal rang out; and it sounded like a different door. A voice rang out, and although the words were garbled, it was clearly…

“Robotnik…” Sonic whispered.

Everyone was quiet for a moment before Trystan tried again. “So…” he began, “anyone know how to pry open a two-thousand ton slab of metal?”

Nobody answered, but Sonic cracked his neck, took a couple steps back, and then dashed forward, curled up into a ball. He struck the steel door, and everyone watched in anticipation as he grinded through the door using nothing but a spin-dash (Trystan was more astonished than anything; seeing hedgehog quills cut solid metal is not an everyday occurrence).

When Sonic finally split the door clean open, he saw in front of him...everyone he expected. Sally, Tails, Bunnie, they were all there, but a flash of some different color caught his eye. He turned his head to look up at the catwalks a floor above and saw the Supression Squad, who were, by now, staring at him wide-eyed in disbelief. Trystan poked his head through the new, clean hole in the door and entered, followed by Amy and then Antoine. Sonic smirked to himself and looked back at Sally. “Hey guys!” he called as if nothing was wrong. “Did we miss the butt-whoopin’?”

The Freedom Fighters all looked at each other, slightly confused. Sally could only stammer, “N...No…”

“Actually, you’re...kinda early,” Rotor added.

Trystan’s face immediately lit up as he lifted his revolver. “...Awesome. Let’s get started!” He whipped around and began firing bullets up at the catwalks, and the viewport with Robotnik and Snively behind it.

This, of course, registered on Metal Sonic’s optics as an act of aggression.

And any sign of aggression meant immediate, swift, and decisive application of force.

While the Supression Squad split up and kept their heads low, Metal fired up the thruster on it’s back and charged forward and directly at Trystan. He noticed it coming straight for him and covered his head, bracing for impact. It was only stopped a moment before colliding with him by another spin-dash from Sonic, who landed and stared the metal monster down like the champion he was. “Listen pally, there’s only room for _one_ speedster on this planet.”

He was silenced as another blue ball of pain collided with him in the side of the head and sent him reeling. Scourge landed with both feet on the ground, glaring at Sonic, who was trying to pick himself up after being splayed out on an assembly line. “You’re damn right there’s only room for one of us, and you’re lookin’ at him!” Scourge cracked his neck. “I dunno **how** the hell you got out of our jail, but I’m _beyond_ pissed. I didn’t come all this way to have my fun get spoiled by you!”

As the scene played out, Robotnik merely stood alongside Snively behind his plexiglass wall (that now had significantly more ballistic dents in it) and grinned. “Well...I didn’t think it would get _this_ interesting, Snively,” he remarked, casting a sideways glance at his nephew. “You should’ve brought popcorn.”

“I’ll try to remember that for next time, sir,” Snively conceded.

The other members of the Supression Squad had since dove from the catwalks to engage their counterparts: Boomer was fighting Rotor and Amy, Miles was engaging with Tails in a dogfight, and Buns and Bunnie tradings blows. Patch and Antoine were _attempting_ to fight each other, but it was mostly just the both of them trying to look more intimidating than the other, and Alicia and Sally were in a heated duel.

Bunnie got thrown over a conveyor after being mercilessly spear-handed in the stomach. “Lady’ them cybernetics y’all got done made ya soft!” Buns exclaimed mockingly. “Yer not even tryin’!”

A moment later, Bunnie stood up from behind the assembly line, her eyes practically spouting fire. She charged forward and aimed for Buns’ head, which was blocked...but she had counted on that. Bunnie brought her roboticized arm up and caught her double in a devastating uppercut, which almost broke her jaw and sent her several feet into the air before crashing down on the hard concrete floor. “At least Ah ain’t dressed like a **skank!”** Bunnie roared.

Rotor spun his most trusted hammer and wrench around in his hands, staring Boomer down, and Amy stood right next to him, her massive Piko Piko Hammer ready to strike. Rotor’s doppelganger was at least three feet taller than him and outfitted with extensive cybernetics, on top of having a more muscular build. Boomer chuckled. “I’m almost ashamed that such a pudgy grease-monkey is supposed to be my alpha self.”

Rotor squinted and took a couple measured steps forward. “Well this ‘pudgy grease-monkey’s’ still got some kick in him yet!” He swung both his tools in an X-scissor, which Boomer dodged by jumping backward. He then shielded his face behind his arms, which were both augmented with some sort of energy-wave amplifier. The dials on the center of the augments lit up and let loose enough energy to stagger Rotor back some. He was about to gloat more before Amy, to his surprise, got on front of him and slammed her hammer onto his arms. It caused a bit of a shockwave, and Boomer himself went several feet backward, still standing in a defensive position.

When the ringing subsided, he dropped his guard and sneered. “Not good enough. Not by a damn sight.”

To say Alicia and Sally were equally matched would be redundant, as they were both exchanging punches and kicks at a one-to-one ratio. A cross block, then a swift jab and hook kick combo sent Sally reeling backward, her chest aching from the beatdown. Alicia strode forward, a dark smile on her face. “Some princess you are,” she asserted, “No wonder this version of my city fell to _your_ Robotnik. You’re as weak as they come!”

Sally forced herself upright and charged at Alicia again, winding up for a punch. Alicia managed to catch it, something Sally punished her for by quickly grabbing her wrist, wrapping her leg over her arm, and kicking her repeatedly in the head before she countered by grabbing her leg and throwing her back. Alicia’s face was now heavily bruised and her lips were bleeding, but she kept taunting her true counterpart. Apparently ignoring the fact she’d been whipped into submission, she continued, “And Scourge told me about the operation you’ve been running. Lemme tell you, guerilla war’s gonna get you nowhere unless you _kill_ Robotnik off.” She took a deep breath in, trying to keep her focus. “Knothole’s too small to keep you and your dumbass friends going like this.”

“If we escaped a dying city when he took over,” Sally retorted, “we’ve still got a shot.”

“No you don’t!” Alicia yelled, smiling again. “You’ll kill yourselves on your precious ‘code of honor.’ And your final nail in the coffin was getting one of those weak, retarded **overlanders** to try and help you!”

There was a subtle _*click*_ and Alicia felt the barrel of a gun on the back of her head.

“I’m right here, you know.”

The pause only lasted a second, before Alicia spun around to grab Trystan’s wrist. He started to pull down on the trigger, but was still too slow to stop her, but, acting on reflex, he headbutted Alicia right in the nose, which made her yell and forced her to let go of his arm. She stumbled backwards and promptly kicked in the back by Sally, sending her forward, and Trystan followed up by punching her in a left hook that sent her stumbling over herself to the right until she fell over.

Sally quickly strode over to Trystan and took up a ready stance beside him. “I think you could’ve done without holding her at gunpoint,” she whispered.

“Just trying to make a point,” he chuckled.

Alicia picked herself back up and turned to face the two. The sneer she wore had enough hate to melt steel, and that coupled with the blood now running from her nose and lips almost made her look demonic. “I don’t think she took it very well,” Sally muttered.

With a flourish, she pulled two whips off of her belt and cracked them menacingly as she took a step forward. Trystan paused to stare at her for a second then blurted out, “Wow. Kinky one, huh?”

Sally froze and stared up at Trystan with wide, unbelieving eyes, and when he saw it, he grimaced and muttered, “Sorry, that just kinda...came out.”

Meanwhile, Sonic, Scourge, and Metal Sonic were tearing around the assembly room at a speed the naked eye could barely process. Scourge fought brutally, slamming both Metal Sonic’s and Sonic’s head into the wall at every opportunity. Metal fought with the cold logic of a machine, striking fast, hard, and always aiming for where it would hurt the most. Sonic, despite keeping his casual exterior up, was being surprisingly elusive, and actually dodging attacks more often than not; but when he was given an opening, he would either unleash a flurry of blinding kicks or he’d try to land a single, decisive homing attack.

The three hedgehogs practically ran laps around the room, turning the fight into a combination of a no-holds barred beatdown, and a race. Sonic was getting badly beaten, bruises and cuts all along his body, on account of him trying to juggle two duplicates who were both out to kill him _and_ working together. They attacked each other indiscriminately, Scourge and Sonic praying, deep in their hearts, that they would be the last one standing, and would decide victory for the ones who stood behind them. Metal Sonic, however...it was out for blood.

Robotnik was still watching, but his smile had faded quickly, along with his interest. He sighed. “Snively…?”

Snively cast a sideways glance at him. “I think it’s time to move on. We’re wasting daylight.”

“I couldn’t agree more, sir,” he replied.

Robotnik held up his biomechanical arm, and activated a holoscreen, displaying data about his Metal Sonic robot. “Metal Sonic,” he declared, “Activate protocol one-zero-one-five-two-four Eximus, authorization code: Kintobor.”

He stood back and watched everything change in an instant. Metal Sonic froze for a second, right before it was about to charge Sonic. It missed its chance to drive him into a wall, something Scourge picked up as he spin-dashed into Sonic. It threw him out of the fight as he crashed into an assembly conveyor. “This...is...gettin’...stupid…” Scourge panted. “How...can one...lousy...blue...hedgehog…” He rotated his shoulder and cracked his back before finishing, “...Take so much...punishmen- _Hrrk!”_

Scourge was interrupted as Metal Sonic grabbed him by the throat, its eyes glowing brighter red than before. The metal monster said nothing to him...it just hurled him into a wall. And Sonic and a few other members of the Supression Squad noticed.

“Robotnik!”

Robotnik stopped upon hearing Miles’ voice in the speakers of his observation room, as he had started to walk back to the platform that left for the roof of the warehouse. He could hear his metal Sonic now wreaking havoc, no longer on anyone’s side but his. He grinned to himself, refusing to turn around. “What’s the meaning of this…!?”

There was a pause, but the doctor spoke with conviction. “Did you honestly _think_ I would allow you to roam free after killing the Freedom Fighters…?” he chuckled. “You’re all just as much of a threat as _they_ are.”

Scourge pushed himself out of the dent in the wall impacting it had made. He’d heard every last one of Robotnik’s words, and “livid” didn’t even come _close_ to describing his rage. “Why you fat fuckin’ **bastard!”** he screeched. _“We had a deal, you shit-eatin’, ugly-ass landwhale...!”_

“Indeed we did,” Robotnik replied, his voice as calm as ever. “But you must understand, I have my _own_ agendas to chase, and I can’t allow my greatest enemies **or** their slightly-more-dour doubles to get any ideas.” He stood on the platform and it began to rise up and out of sight. “Farewell, you little monsters! I have urgent business to attend to!”

His maniacal laughter rang out over the speakers, until it was suddenly cut-off, leaving a dull buzz in the air. Before anyone else could make a move, Metal Sonic charged into the midst of them, spinning around and lashing out at everyone close by: it kicked Boomer and Rotor in the chest, slashed Miles and Buns’ arms, and kept moving forward in a whirlwind of pain before ricocheting off a wall and flying back in the same direction, aiming at Tails with the steel talons on its hands glinting and ready.

Tails shrieked and covered his face, hoping it would at least be over quickly, but before Metal Sonic could even get close, the real Sonic came spin-dashing through and knocked it off-course. Metal flew backward and skidded along the ground before crashing into a wall. It crackled with electricity, slowly got to its feet, and stared dead ahead. Sonic stood in front of Tails, acting as his personal shield; he did nothing but put on the same cocky grin he’d used hundreds of times before.

It glared at Sonic and the buzzing got louder.

“Hey, tall, metal, and ugly!” Sonic called. “How ‘bout ya pick on someone your own size, huh?” The Freedom Fighters picked themselves up if they could, or alternatively helped each other up, and stood beside Sonic.

Then Scourge hobbled up on their left, supported by Alicia and surrounded by the Supression Squad. “You think we’re done yet…?” he asked with a wiry grin on his face. “Like hell. I don’t care if metal-hog over there’s on our side or not, but we ain’t goin’ home without givin’ you jackasses a proper beatdown!”

Trystan sneered and took aim, his hand flighty, switching between targets every two seconds. “Your funeral, pal,” Sonic said with a shrug.

Every member of the opposing faction remained in a staring contest with someone on the other side, and with Metal Sonic. Every muscle was wound, ready to move and strike as need demanded it. It became quiet, save for the thrumming buzz that now filled the warehouse. It became pronounced enough the Trystan actually took his revolver off of the Supression Squad and aimed it at Metal Sonic. After all, only one of Robotnik’s machines could make that noise, and usually right before something explodes. It even got so bad that everyone else stared cautiously at Metal Sonic, shifting their looks quickly between it and their friends, in case the machine decided to strike.

Then, several things happened at once:

First, ear-shattering explosions rang out, creating several openings in the walls. Debris flew everywhere, and several members of the Freedom Fighters and Supression Squad screamed and ducked down to the floor. Then, before the smoke even had a chance to clear, dozens, if not hundreds, of overlanders dressed in red combat armor came streaming in through the holes, their proton rifles held up and humming like a hive of angry bees. _“Difficile pugna, magis mori...!”_ came a few voices of what could only be the commanding officers.

**“Fight hard, die harder...!”** came the response. Four more detonations sounded out and left four open holes in the ceiling, through which came more of the invaders, sliding down on cables and bracing themselves against the catwalk railing. Then there was the shouting, and firing of weapons. The overlanders all ran into different spots as if they had planned on doing this maneuver for years on end. They were like ballet dancers; ballet dancers in heavy armor, wielding guns, and shouting commands to each other in their military jargon.

Two squads of about fifty men and women strong ran into opposite corners. Seven other squads set themselves up around the perimeter of the ground floor, constantly firing their guns. And oddly enough, half a squad of overlanders ran directly over to the Freedom Fighters, standing rank-in-rank with what were once their mortal enemies. Needless to say, it was hard for them to take in, and they didn’t even stop there. All at once, a few veteran officers in each squad took out some sort of hexagonal device: it had a white, plastic finish, but several nodes and a circular opening in the center denoted complex mechanics inside. They threw each machine out into the open, and they quickly flared to life, projecting a force shield up that stretched out into a circle that surrounded both the Supression Squad _and_ Metal Sonic...something Scourge didn’t take kindly to, and was _very_ vocal about.

He stood up to full height and snarled, “Hey, what’s the big idea, ya crimson clowns? You got _no_ business bein’ here, and I want some answers-”

“Fire at will!”

A volley of proton bullets began flying out of every last rifle in the army’s reserve, but was done so in a staggered timing; when one quarter of the soldiers reloaded, the next quarter continued the volley. Scourge, of course, didn’t want to be shot to pieces so easily, and just barely managed to dive to the floor and roll under a conveyor belt. He looked over to his left and saw the rest of the Supression Squad covering their heads as the bullets kept flying.

“What are you jokers _doing?”_ he seethed.

“M-m-m-master Scourge,” Patch stammered, “z-z-zese men are ou-out for b-b-bl- _blood!”_ He took a moment to get his breathing in check again and continued, “Z-z-zis eez a l-l-lost cause! We are d-d- _doomed_ eef we s-s-s-st-stay ‘ere-”

Before he could continue, Scourge combat-rolled over to him and punched him right in the nose, causing him to shriek and start sobbing as the blood flowed out. “It’s only a lost cause when **I** say so, you moldy sack of shit-eating **scum.** Alicia, Boomer, Buns!”

The three he called out for immediately looked up and came closer to hear him over the hail of gunfire. “Buns and Boomer, you focus on breaking these idiots up. Alicia, once they’ve made enough chaos, _you_ go in and trip’em up, and get to our goody-two-shoes doubles! Got it?”

“Got it.”

The three agents of mayhem slid out from under the assembly line and ducked and dove their way through a hail of gunfire. Boomer set about disabling the nearest shield device with an energy wave from his arms, and immediately released another blast that shook the foundations of the entire factory. Buns slipped through the opening and while most of the soldiers were off-balance, she took to cracking skulls.

Or at least tried to. After the initial shock wore off, she found that these overlanders weren’t like the spineless ones from her home dimension...especially after being hit with the butt of a rifle at least five times in a row.

Every last member of the army was firing at both the Supression Squad and still trying to keep tabs on Metal Sonic, who was shrugging off bullets and focusing on beating the living hell out of the suppression fire squads on the catwalks. The Freedom Fighters were confused, no doubt, but Sonic had been standing still for too long, so he took a couple steps forward. This was immediately stopped by one of the overlanders snatching the back of his vest collar. “Where do you think you’re goin’, mate?”

“I’m goin’ to help clean this mess up, pal,” he replied. “Why, is it against protocol for anyone but you to have all the fun?”

“Wait…” The overlander paused to get a better look at him. “...Sonic the Hedgehog?”

Sonic grinned and winked. “The one and only.”

The soldier made another pause before letting go of his vest. “Yeah, the general said you’d be okay.”

Sonic chuckled to himself before breaking rank and rushing straight up the side of a wall to flip onto the catwalks and engage Metal Sonic directly. While the robot was engaged with throwing a few of the soldiers across the room like dolls, Sonic flew into the air and spin-dashed right into its back, catching it off-guard and sending Metal flying into a wall. When he landed, Sonic snickered and crossed his arms. “Gotta pay better attention than _that,_ scrap heap. When I send ya back to Buttnik, tell him to upgrade your optics, ‘kay?”

Metal said nothing, only dislodging itself from the wall, its red pupils glowing and the propulsion vent on its back blowing flames. It charged at Sonic, and the two re-engaged. The soldier who had let Sonic go, turned on his comm link. “Verifex Calypso, Sonic the Hedgehog is here, and is currently engaging that robotic doppelganger of his,” he reported.

Calypso, who was standing in front of another squad that had blown a hole open in some of the terminal stations on the bottom floor picked up a small mic attached to her collar and replied, “Affirmative. Attention Gamma, Eta, and Theta Squads, disengage from the target unless otherwise ordered. We don’t want to accidentally shoot the hedgehog.”

“Ave.”

Meanwhile, the three other members of the Supression Squad were still causing chaos among the ranks of the army. Boomer and Buns had been doing fine work as distractions, Alicia was tripping other soldiers up, and Scourge was taking dozens of soldiers out of commission. One of the commanding officers, Verifex Thoms, could see them all running around, and realized he had a dilemma: the soldiers were splitting their firepower too much. They’d either have to focus on the Supression Squad or Metal Sonic specifically, which would leave them open to the other side. Thankfully, this was what the Jupiter’s Hammer was all about, and he knew just the way to get the other little pests out of his way. He turned on his comm link, talking to almost three-quarters of the soldiers in the room. “Men!” he commanded, “We’ve got some vermin running around on the northeast end. Get’em out of here!”

There were several replied of “Ave, commander!” before he shut off the comms and saw, to his relief, a squad of heavy assault on the catwalks bracing and loading their weapons.

Scourge grabbed two soldiers and slammed their heads together, causing a satisfying _*clang*_ and dropping them both. A few more of the warriors ran up, and he began running around them, hitting them from every possible angle as they tried to drag away their fallen brothers. Eventually, they began to get too far away from the rest of the Supression Squad, so Scourge decided to let them go, safe in the knowledge he was still holding all the cards. Boomer and Buns were still cleaning house on a few other army members, and by now, he knew it was safe to call everyone else to him, now that they had cleaved their way through part of their foes and had some breathing room. “Miles, Alicia, Patch!” he yelled. He eventually got their attention from where they were still hiding and got them to come over to him, though Patch was still having a nervous breakdown.

Alicia reflexively ducked when she heard and partially saw Metal Sonic drive the real Sonic into a wall a floor above them. “Scourge, you better have a plan!” she hissed.

“Keep yer panties on, babe, I know what to do now,” he replied.

Miles crossed his arms. “It certainly **took** you long enough. You weren’t counting on getting caught in the crossfire of an all-out _war,_ much less being stabbed in the back by Alpha Zone Robotnik...which isn’t much of a surprise, in all honesty,” he chided.

Before anyone else could talk, Scourge had whipped his hand out and backhanded Miles in a flash. It made him reflexively spit, and he stumbled backward slightly while rubbing his cheek, staring at Scourge with a mix of surprise and hatred. But mostly hatred. “You can shut the hell up right now, pixel-brain,” Scourge deadpanned, “and listen up. First, we gotta get us a height advantage.” he looked a Buns and hastily walked over while explaining, “Buns an’ I ‘ll clear a way up to the catwalks while _you_ tag along behind us. Then, all of us throw those weirdos off the upper floor and _bam!_ Instant advantage!”

“Targets locked!”

The Supression Squad heard a command being issued from almost directly above and behind them, and all looked up into the rafters to see an entire row of almost twenty soldiers aiming high-ordnance arms at them. “Fire at will!”

A stream of grenade pipes and rocket-propelled grenades all went sailing through the air, right for the Supression Squad. They all moved on reflex, jumping clear of the (frankly ludicrous) blast radius. Scourge, of course, had no troubled dodging the line of explosions, until he noticed something: a few other people were still focused down the sights of their guns. He was slightly puzzled until the triggers were pulled, and more explosives rocketed out as half the squad fired their weapons while the other half reloaded. He had no way to react to staggered fire he hadn’t been expecting, at least not quickly enough to get out completely unscathed. The explosives hit the ground, blasting concrete away and causing more trauma to the nearby Supression Squad members.

Scourge himself got flung forward and got his head driven hard enough into part of Robotnik’s machinery that he left a dent the size of his own head in the steel casing surrounding a part of the assembly line that housed robotic hands that were meant to build more robots. His vision was clouded by stars and flickering lights for a moment, and he then realized, begrudgingly, that maybe this was a case of “Lose the battle, win the war.” He dashed back over to Miles, who was still trying to get the ringing out of his ears, and began rifling through his coat; obviously something Miles wasn’t comfortable with. “Wh...what the hell do you think you’re doing?” he stammered through the pain.

“...Might be a good time to boogie,” Scourge said when he picked out the Warp Ring from an inside pocket. “Get’cher ass up and follow me as soon as you can, beanpole.” Scourge immediately whirled around and threw the Ring as hard as he could, which exploded to life and blew back Alicia and Boomer, who had _almost_ managed to get back up before Scourge stopped all that progress. Still, he wasted no time in making for the exit, though he did veer off to the right to pick Alicia up and carry her into the portal.

After they managed to collected themselves, and they did so quickly with the high-explosives firing line still staring them down, everyone in the Supression Squad vanished through the Ring’s portal back to the Reverse Zone. This left only Metal Sonic to worry about; it was still flying around and engaged in a constant battle with Sonic that led them across the catwalks, through windows, and up walls.

Amillius looked up from the gathered army to Sonic and his robot double and licked his lips nervously. By now, that Filii Rubrum had been standing around, keeping their rifles trained in the general vicinity of the two opposing forces. Sonic might be a superhero compared to everyone else, but he knew that even he might not be able to outlast a robot that had no concept of pain or fatigue.

A loud clanging sound caused him to reflexively duck, and he saw Metal careen through another window on the second floor and disappear from sight for a moment before it reappeared, just as angry-looking as ever, and fly right back at Sonic, who used his spin-dash to try and counteract its momentum. He lost that battle by a fractional amount.

He pursed his lips and then booted up his comms link. “Martialis Roberd!” he said.

“Ave, verifex!” came a voice on the other end.

“I’m not hearing any fire coming from your end of the warehouse. Is…” Amillius was cut off again when an explosion rang out after Metal Sonic tried to tackle the real Sonic and collided with an entire computer terminal. There was a cocky exclamation of, “Damn, dude, you really don’t have a problem with killin’ your own family, do ya?”

“...Is the Supression Squad all taken care of?”

“...I think they ran away, sir. We saw’em disappear into a pool of some...rubber-looking liquid, and they were just gone,” the soldier answered.

Amillius sighed and replied. “Whatever. They’re out of our hair, so now you can help me. Load your nirvanna up right now, because I’m patching us both through to Sonic. That’s an order!”

After a swift “Ave!” Amillius returned the comm link as fast as he could. In time he could hear a faint crackling in the distance on his headpiece.

Sonic was having a grand old time taunting Metal and subsequently getting the hell out of its way before it crashed into something new, but some new buzzing in his ear was starting to irritate him. At first, he thought it was just a very pesky bug, but when he felt around said ear, he quickly realized it was his headset acting up. “Guess this stupid thing’s on the fritz. So much for overlander tech,” he grumbled as he reached up to pluck it out.

He never got the chance. As his hand came up, the buzzing static crackled to life, and a voice promptly shouted. “Sonic the Hedgehog! Can you hear me, Sonic? Come in!”

“Ow!” Sonic shouted and for that one second he lost his concentration, Metal rammed him in the gut and sent him rolling backwards on the ground. Luckily, he was mostly shaken, and managed to roll out of the way of a punch launched from the air so hard it left a dent in the ground, and Sonic kept running. _“...Ergh._ Yeah, I hear ya. Who’s this, the pizza man?”

“This is Verifex Amillius of the Filii Rubrum. Also, not the best time for jokes, my friend.”

Sonic turned around and vaulted out of the way of an electric beam that Metal launched from its palm. “Right, gotcha. Sorry.”

“Listen,” Amillius explained, “I realize you’re probably having fun fighting this... _thing,_ but if you don’t mind, I’d like Metal Sonic turned into a pile of molten slag as soon as possible. Would you mind helping with that so we can all go home sooner rather than later...?”

Sonic took one look behind him, shrugged, and replied, “Eh, sure. I mean, tin-man over here’s not really reacting to me much anyway. I guess he’s over the whole ‘constantly getting berated’ thing.”

There was a sigh on the other end and Amillius instructed, “All right. Excellent. Now listen...I have a man on the catwalks above you, in the northwest, holding a rocket launcher. That _specific_ model can blow a hole through steel if you know where to place the shots, so all you need to do is get that hunk of scrap to follow you up there, and then you run toward the man. You’ll know him when you see him.”

Another electric wave streaked toward Sonic, and he quickly dove out of the way and started running around the complex to get up to the second level. He didn’t look behind him until a couple seconds later, and saw Metal right on his tail, propulsion systems practically going into overdrive. “Think you can talk any faster, because I’m on my way up right now.”

“Absolutely,” Amillius replied with an undertone of anxiousness. “All that’s left to do is, again, run straight at him, and when I yell ‘jump!’ you jump as high and as far away from Metal Sonic as you possibly can.”

“That’s all?”

“That’s all,” the verifex confirmed.

Sonic grinned. “Cool.” He made a sharp right, and ran down a central walkway. He saw, a couple dozen feet ahead, was a lone man with a rocket launcher mounted on his shoulder, colored as red as blood. He didn’t do anything except fix his gaze on Sonic and Metal Sonic right on his tail, and he gave Sonic a small smile and nod. Sonic grinned back.

The soldier was getting closer, and Metal Sonic was getting closer to him in turn. Sixty feet…

“Steady…” came Amillius’ voice over the comms.

Forty feet…

“Almost…”

Twenty...

**“Jump...!”**

Sonic reflexively flung himself off the side of the catwalk. All he heard was the roar of a propulsion engine, and then nearly felt his eardrums shatter as a hollow **_*Boom*_ ** sounded off and echoed around the factory. Pretty soon, he felt a lot of heat nearly burn his back, and twisted himself around in the air to see what was going on. The only answer to his questions was a large cloud of pitch-black smoke and cinders, and a fifteen foot stretch of the catwalk missing behind him, the edges bent and red-hot.

He fell briefly, but hit the floor on his feet and without much pain, and much to his amusement, he saw a few broken joints, bolts, assorted circuits, and the half-melted head of Metal Sonic either on the floor and swiftly hitting it. As he walked back toward the Freedom Fighters, who were all overjoyed to see him still alive, a great whooping cheer sounded out from the ranks of the Filii Rubrum. Mostly, just over exaggerated fist-pumping and exuberant cries of “Fight hard, **die harder...!”**

Sally immediately ran up and hugged Sonic tight, which almost knocked him off balance, but he chuckled and hugged her back. Everyone else quickly came up to congratulate him. “Way to go, Sonic,” Rotor exclaimed as he slapped him on the back.

Tails hugged Sonic too, and Sonic himself was more open with the laughter as he picked Tails up, hugged him, and set him back down.

“What _happened_ to you?” Sally interrupted.

Sonic shrugged and grunted. “Prob’ly nothin’ you ain’t heard already. Got jumped. Got thrown in jail. Got busted out. Just another Tuesday.”

“See, maybe if you weren’t so _stubborn,_ you wouldn’t end up in trouble so much,” Sally retorted.

“You’re callin’ **me** stubborn…”

That exchange led to a small argument, but Trystan didn’t take much notice, as Bunnie actually came up to him and asked, “Sugah, what happened to yah?”

He chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck. “Heh...uh, funny you should ask...see, Amy thought somethin’ was wrong with Sonic, and we eventually agreed to go to that dimension you guys discovered to see if he was in there somewhere, and we sprang him out because he got himself captured, obviously, and then we came back here and the rest is basically history,” he explained.

Bunnie scoffed. “Why, Ah do declare! So y’all an’ Amy basically jumped inta that parallel universe thang an’ came back out with Sonic?” She crossed her arms and continued, “Ah bet y’all only dragged poor An’twan inta this at the last moment. He must’a been _so_ confused…”

“You kiddin’, kid, Antoine was already _there,”_ Trystan replied.

Bunnie immediately perked up. “Wha-” Her eyes widened and she stuttered slightly as she looked from him to Antoine who was busy dusting his uniform off, and wiping the sweat from his forehead. “An’twan went with ya first thang? Really…?”

“Oh, yeah.” Trystan opted to leave out the part where he had to coerce Antoine into coming with them, since he figured Antoine would argue against it heatedly anyway.

“An’twan!” Bunnie called, prompting him to stand up straight and take a step closer.

“Y-yes, Bunnie...?”

“Y’all never told me ya could be such a trooper, An’twan,” Bunnie replied. She must not have noticed the confused look on his face, which wouldn’t have mattered anyway as she continued, “Helpin’ Trystan an’ Amy like that’s mighty brave of ya.”

Oddly enough, Antoine didn’t immediately puff his chest out, instead stammering, “Ah, yes, well, erm, I could not simply, erm...let zem go off alone…”

Trystan eyed him and frowned before bringing his hand up and rotating it over and over, indicating Antoine to keep going. “...So zey brought me-” He coughed and corrected himself. _“Asked_ me eef I would like to...erm, help zem…” Trystan rolled his eyes and rolled his hands to face palm up, gesturing to him. “Help zem on zeir mission,” Antoine finished. Trystan smirked and flashed him two thumbs up.

Bunnie crossed her arms and gave him a warm smile. “That is the story’a the year if Ah ever heard it. Y’all should be proud’a yerself, An’twan.”

Trystan chuckled and walked toward Antoine, while adjusting his grenade launcher and casually whispered, “Not like you to immediately take credit for somthin’, Antoine,” to him.

“W-w-wait, wait, zat eez not true!” Antoine replied quickly. “I am zee most ‘umble out of all of us!”

“Uh-huh,” Trystan muttered. He was about to walk over to one of the more important-looking members of the Filii Rubrum and ask them why they were here, but as it so happened, one of them walked up to the Freedom Fighters instead (prompting Trystan to stop and back up slightly.

The man who approached wore full-body armor, and the clanking of all the metal plates against each other alerted everyone that they had company. All of them quickly turned to face him and once he had their attention, he saluted them all, albeit with less enthusiasm than he normally would. “Ave,” he began. “I am Verifex Thoms.” He scanned the Freedom Fighters momentarily. “Tell me...which one of you is…” He paused, as if lost in thought. “Princess Sally…?”

The silence that followed was rather awkward, but thankfully, it didn’t last long. Sally stepped forward and tentatively asked, “Yes…?”

Thoms stood at attention, quickly bowed his head, and continued, “The General thought you might be here and searching for that Metal Sonic thing, too. Since we’re already here, he wanted to inform you that you’re all cordially invited to meet with him to discuss a potential alliance.” The Freedom Fighters all looked at each other. They weren’t nervous...but couldn’t exactly be sure of their next step. After all, what if an actual discussion with the “General” went poorly?

“You don’t have to accept our offer immediately, but I will warn you...until you do, I imagine the General will keep sending messages to you politely asking for a time to convene with him and with us,” Thoms explained. “Yes, he’s _that_ kind of person.”

There was only a moment of silence that followed, but Sally considered this could be worth a try. After all, their cell needed all the help they could get, and besides, she didn’t necessarily know when the next time they and the Filii Rubrum would be able to talk was, considering the hectic circumstances of fighting a guerilla war against Dr. Robotnik. She looked up at Thoms. “I don’t see the harm in taking you up on that offer.” She did pause and turn around. “If you’re all okay with it, I guess.”

The Freedom Fighters all looked at each other, and sparingly at Thoms and the other members of the army around them, still celebrating their victory. After a moment, they all shrugged and said, in one way or another, “Why not?”

Thoms remained still for a moment, but nodded and pivoted. “Follow me. We’ll distribute you amongst what helibirds we’ve got and make for Megapolis immediately.”

The call went out to every member of the Filii Rubrum, and they all began to scramble out of the assembly plant and back to their helicopters, mostly chattering excitedly about their victory, and placing bets on what their mobian guests would do when they saw their home base.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Consider this an apology for being inactive for so long (also, can you tell where I completely gave the fuck up?).


	14. The Best-Laid Plans

The helibirds were loaded up with their men and what few bodies were left after the skirmish and the Filii Rubrum set off for their base with the Freedom Fighters stowing away on several different ships. For almost all of them, they were surprised at how overall friendly the overlanders were being with them, actively engaging in conversations making jokes, and sharing war stories and small tidbits of history, what little they could recall. Trystan had even been offered the co-pilot’s seat of the helibird he was traveling in, but he politely declined, as he didn’t want any word spreading to the others about being given special treatment. He did, however, entertain a few of the soldiers with stories of his time in Knothole.

“...and then, I snuck around the back and slowly, carefully, stuck several grenades to the reactors of the factory..”

“Wait, wait, and you’re telling us you did this all alone…?” another man interrupted.

“Hm? Oh, yeah,” Trystan answered. “Don’t tell any of my pals, though,” he chuckled, “they’ll beat my ass.”

This was met with a small round of laughter from the listeners, which was interrupted by a message from helibird _Zeus_. “Attention, men. We are approaching the Megapolis city limits. All helibirds, give me a read out.”

“Here,” the pilot said. This was followed by twenty more calls of “Here” or “Ave.”

“We’ll be arriving at the appointed landing site in thirty more minutes,” the pilot of _Zeus_ replied to all the helicopters. “Until then, stay on course, and stay alert for any potential chaser drones.”

The helibirds flew onward through the cloudy afternoon until, just over the horizon, small buildings came into view. Their placements on the ground didn’t last long, as a wall made of solid steel appeared that was so tall that a few helibirds had to adjust their altitude in order to not collide with it. On the other side was a mess of buildings not unlike those of Robotropolis, except they were all far more decrepit. The metal was rusting, the windows were broken or gone, and even from this high in the air, there was visible litter blowing around on street level; however, it was hard to tell what the street level actually was, as it looked like hundreds of buildings had been built on top of each other like a massive pile of building blocks, connected with tubes of glass and steel overpasses.

Yet, over it all stood a massive citadel-spire, painted in light blue, and even though said paint was dulled from exposure to the outside, it was no less awe-inspiring against the grey sky in the background.

The helibirds all suddenly veered to the left and stayed in that direction for a few minutes more before another command came on over the inter-vehicle comms. “Prepare your landing gear and protocols. Landing site approaching in T minus two minutes.”

And so the ships came down, onto a long stretch of concrete gardens that now served as a runway. In what felt like no time at all, the Freedom Fighters stepped out of the helicopters alongside the Filii Rubrum to find something almost more shocking than the fact that the army itself was fortified in a dead city…

“There’s _more_ of’em?” Sonic asked himself. The helipad they had all landed at was now being swarmed with hundreds of overlanders. They weren’t wearing any armor, but they did wear grey, light blue, or white jumpsuits with red or blue accents and trim. All of them, however, were running around and taking armor, weapons, and gear from the Filii Rubrum, and doing quick maintenance checks on the helibirds, placing orders to repair things as necessary.

“Yep. We’re all technically part of the Filii Rubrum, but these people are the Advena,” one of the Verifexes explained. “Not in the militarized forces...at least, not yet...but just as important as the soldiers. They help keep us running.” After meeting together, three-quarters of the amassed commanders and soldiers of the army disbanded, and said they would return to their quarters. The rest, however, instructed the Freedom Fighters to stay close, as they were going to escort them to the General.

“And keep your eyes on your friends more than the scenery,” Verifex Thoms instructed. “It’s easy enough to get lost in the central district alone.”

“You mind tellin’ us where we’re goin’?” Sonic interrupted.

Thoms paused, then turned and pointed to the very top of the citadel that was currently towering over everything else. “Right there,” he said. “That’s where the General holds council. Now, we’d better get going; I imagine he’ll want to meet you if someone else already radioed in that we had guests coming back with us.” He and two squadrons of soldiers then marched into one of the towers that surrounded the citadel. The complex itself was mostly dark, even though it was midday, and the halls eschewed a design reminiscent of the many titanium-lined corridors of Robotropolis. Only, the feeling of constant dread was absent.

The amassed group eventually came to two steel doors, as tall as they were wide. Verifex Calico strode up to a panel to the right and bent her head to its level and said, “Requesting access...” The panel lit up red and a matrix grid was beamed over her eyes, cross-referencing its databases, and then stopped. The light turned green, and the door opened up to reveal an extra-large elevator.

Thoms took a step forward, and motioned for the Freedom Fighters to go inside. Every one of them looked back at him hesitantly (even Trystan), but entered anyway. Thoms himself and about seventy other soldiers stayed behind while the rest of them, along with Verifexes Amillius, Calico, and Lycus, among others, entered the elevator. The doors closed, and soon, everyone felt their bodies being dragged down by G-force as the elevator shot up. Only the Filii Rubrum showed little to no reaction, obviously used to it.

“Jesus,” Trystan muttered. “This is uncomfortable...Hope we get off soon…”

“Give it about one more minute, man,” one of the soldiers next to him whispered. “This elevator’s going _way_ faster than you think.”

Antoine clutched his stomach. “I am not feeling so on top of things…” he groaned. Bunnie shook her head and put her hand on his back in an effort to calm him down. The ride up persisted for about a minute more before the elevator abruptly stopped and the doors slid open a moment later.

In front of them all was a long and narrow hallway with arched openings to the outside, letting the wind sail through. The only thing Amillius said as everyone left the elevator was “Follow us, please.” The Freedom Fighters did as he asked, and although they were all still cautious about being in such an alien place, Trystan and Tails were still interested in the architecture around them. After a dozen or so feet, the group came to another door, though it was made out of brass and embossed with surprisingly intricate designs of swooping plant imprints and faces of what must have been long-dead overlander heroes. Despite the skill that must have gone into making it, it was starting to lose both its luster and the sharp edges of some of the design.

The verifexes quickly outstrode the Freedom Fighters and took up a post on both sides of the door. The soldiers, too, stood on the edges of the hallway. “Right through here,” Calico said as she placed her hand on one of the door handles.

Everyone looked at each other, but soon enough, Sonic walked closer, inspiring Tails to follow him. It continued until Antoine was the last one in line, and in response, the commanders pulled the doors open for them.

They crossed the threshold into a room that was built more like a theatre than anything else. The ceiling looked as if it was built miles above them, and the walls were arched, giving it the feeling of an airy cathedral. In the back was a banner that had been turned around, and now bore the mark of the Filii Rubrum on its off-white back. In front of that was a semi-circular table with three chairs behind it, and slightly further back and off to the right stood three figures; two in flowing robes, and one in full body combat armor.

Upon hearing the doors creak open and the march of footsteps, the three figures turned around, and the man in armor quickly perked up and ran around the table. Getting a better look revealed he had a helmet with violet plumage that concealed everything but his mouth, chin, and the dirty-blonde goatee around it. The visor on said helmet also perfectly concealed what his eyes and face might look like. He was followed by the two others, a woman with platinum-blonde hair and another man with dark skin and short cropped hair. They stood at the first man’s left and right.

Verifex Thoms approached and saluted. “General Praetorius,” he said, the words coming out almost reverently.

“Verifex Thoms,” the General replied. “...And the prestigious Freedom Fighters!” he added as he looked over at them. “I take it the mission was a success?”

“Resounding success, despite one or two complications,” Thoms replied.

“I would expect nothing less,” the General replied. “Go ahead and tell your men to disband,” he said, speaking to every commander gathered, “and go get some rest yourselves. You’ve earned it.”

“Ave Praetorius!” The commanders saluted again and filed out of the room, and after the doors closed, the muffled sound of heavy combat boots against the ground sounded out as the soldiers marched away.

There was a pause, but the woman at the General’s side leaned over and asked, “Sir, should we…?”

“A good question, Blesse,” he replied. “And my answer is, you may stay if you wish.”

Blesse paused, nodded respectfully, and then walked forward and out of the room as well. She was followed very quickly by Emex. As he walked by the Freedom Fighters, Tails could have sworn he heard the man mutter something in disgust and turn his head away to spit on the floor.

The doors shut, and the only ones who remained were the General, the Freedom Fighters, and the airy silence of the room. It was an awkward silence for a moment, but the General quickly stepped forward, cleared his throat, and greeted his guests. “Well…” he began, “Here we are. Finally face-to-face.”

“Was wonderin’ what you guys actually looked like,” Sonic replied. “And thanks.”

The General scoffed in surprise. “‘Thanks…?’ What for?”

“For helpin’ us out back there,” Sonic said, flashing a smile. “It’s not every day we get to see Robotnik’s plans trashed so well...even by _my_ standards.” Sally rolled her eyes, and everyone else, save Antoine, laughed.

The General relaxed and walked back to lean on the semicircular table. “Well,” he said, “I imagine you might have some questions, and you are free to ask them before I get into the details of why I want to talk to you.”

“If you don’t mind, sir: who are you all, how did you get here, why did you join the fight against Robotnik?” Sally asked in rapid succession.

The General stood rigid and was silent for a moment. “...The first and last questions go hand in hand,” he commented bitterly. “We are the Filii Rubrum, as you know, but we come from New Pacific City. Every last one of us.”

Trystan’s eyes went wide and raised his hand up and was about to speak, but the General didn’t notice and kept talking. “Robotnik turned New Pacific into a breeding ground for his evil ideas, and we were the only ones who escaped. It may look like a lot of us, but we’re all actually living in this central area around the old office of authority for the Overlords of Megapolis.” He turned his gaze over to a window, large enough to catch most of the city below in its view. “We all made for the north, as far as we possibly could and planned on either settling down miles away from Robotnik or dying with our freedom.” He turned back to the Freedom Fighters. “Instead, we found the old Overland capital, the one the dissenting Houses ran from. Our ancestors. That’s when we decided to set up shop here, and take the fight back to Robotnik.”

Antoine shrugged. “Eenspiring enough…” he muttered to himself.

“And he never thought to come get ya?” Sonic asked.

“We never took an active role in fighting him,” the General admitted. “In fact, my initial plan was to simply hole ourselves up in here, and wait until Robotnik had used up a vast majority of his resources, but it became quite evident to myself and my council that that might not happen until we were too old to fight.” He sighed. “A cowardly idea at the start, definitely, but we quickly rectified it by reverse-engineering and fixing many of the old equipment either brought with us while we were still refugees, or left behind by the pureblood overlanders...wherever they went. After that, my plan was to put Robotropolis under siege after we had conducted efficient reconnaissance, but...well, you all entered the equation at that point.”

“A’ight,” Bunnie said as she walked forward, “Th’ real question here is, how’d y’all find out ‘bout us? Knothole was meant ta be invisible from all angles.”

There was a smile on the General’s face. “It’s the same way we tracked these four on their way to fight Metal Sonic,” he said, gesturing to Amy, Antoine, Sonic, and Trystan. He then brought his right arm up and pushed a couple buttons on a holoscreen that appeared, and there came a light tapping of metal against metal. They looked down to see a robot about the size of a thimble with eight legs and a cubic central body outfitted with an antenna, cameras, and small gyroscopes. It skittered over to the General and ran up his body, and perched on his shoulder. “Spider drone. They can attach themselves to just about any surface, and its lightweight frame means it’s hard for someone to tell if it’s on them.” He chuckled. “With all the GPS systems we have installed on them, they can ping a position nearly halfway across the globe.” He turned and placed the drone on the table before quickly shutting it down.

Meanwhile, Sonic, Trystan, Amy, and Antoine stared at each other. “Wait, wait...who was that thing stuck to?” Amy asked.

“I’m fairly sure the spider drone was hiding in Sonic’s pocket,” the General answered.

“No, I mean, how did that thing even get into Knothole…?”

“Oh, that…” the General said. He gestured to Trystan. “Thank this kid for it.”

Trystan coughed after he nearly choked on his own spit. “Wait, I... **me…?”** he stuttered.

“Yes, sir. Oh, by the way...” the General continued, “Does that mean that factory you wanted to blow up is gone now?”

Trystan froze. “Uh…” He noticed, out of the corner of his eye that Sonic, Sally, and Bunnie were eying him.

_“What_ did you blow up…?” Sally asked slowly.

“...Nothing…”

Sonic crossed his arms. “You not tellin’ us something?” he asked expectantly.

Trystan put on a very, _very_ fake smile. “N-not tell who what...?” he stammered as _every_ one of the Freedom Fighters stared him down.

“Approximately several weeks ago, the Gamma Rho squad saw you making your way to factory nineteen of the Alpha district of Robotropolis…” the General started explaining instead. “We had initial plans to contact you then, but as I understand it... _complications_ arose, and that mission was abandoned.”

Sally remembered _that_ mission, all right. She stared dead into Trystan’s eyes.

“After that, the squad was going to stake out, or return the following day to make contact and deliver a small case of weapons and comms as a ‘peace offering,’ but they caught sight of Trystan returning alone and opted to give him the weapons they had received instead. While he read a note I left in the package for him, one of our special ops soldiers planted the spider drone on him, which hid out in Knothole until today. And apparently, he put those weapons to good use, blowing up the entire factory you’d left behind hours before.” He turned around to face the Freedom Fighters. Sally was glaring daggers at Trystan, and everyone else was standing idly by, dead silent. The General looked around worriedly. “...Am I...missing something?”

“Yes. _Some_ one…” Sally began, “...wasn’t very adamant on sharing that little episode with us.” Trystan was still frozen in place, still trying to show off his best pleading smile. She tensed up, clenched her fists, and exhaled slowly. “So not only did you go _back_ there, knowing full well there would be heavy security actively _looking_ for you, but you _lied_ to me about it!”

“... _Please_ don’t kick my ass…” Trystan pleaded.

Before anyone else could speak, the General interposed himself between everyone and Trystan and calmly stated, “Wait, wait. I should apologize, too. This isn’t Trystan’s fault. I ordered the weapons be given to him. I’m, honestly, the enabler here. Please, Princess Sally, don’t be angry at him.”

“I’m...I’m not angry…” she sighed, rubbing her forehead. “Just disappointed, at this point.”

“T’be fair, ya gotta give’im credit,” Bunnie added.

“For what…? Endangering his life…?” Sally asked.

“Naw,” Bunnie replied, coming closer to Trystan. “Ah mean, the man destroyed an _entire_ fac’try. An’ he ain’t got anythin’ like super-speed, ‘r super-smarts, ‘r cybernetics,” she said. Bunnie paused and then looked directly at Trystan and asked, “Ah jus’ don’t know why y’all went back there so fast.”

Still shaking and almost white, but smiling a bit more, Trystan answered, “I, ah...I couldn’t just, y’know...let **go** of that failure, I guess.”

The General chuckled. “Ah, yes. Overlanders. Getting things done against our better judgement since the dawn of Mobius.” Trystan relaxed a bit more and even found the courage to look at Sally in the eye.

She definitely wasn’t as frustrated as before, and was actually smiling. Slightly. “We’ll talk about this later.”

“I was afraid of that,” Trystan whispered.

“Now,” the General continued, “on to the official business. Just to be clear: which one of you here is considered the de facto leader?” Everyone pointed at Sonic, who was pointing at Sally. Everyone paused and chuckled. “Not really helping,” he said with a smile.

“No kiddin,’” Sonic replied. He turned to Sally and commented, “Sal, you’re the princess. You’re the leader here.”

“Sonic, I’m just the figurehead,” she replied. “You’re the one who keeps inspiring everyone to fight back.”

Rotor crossed his arms and added, “Sally’s right, man. We’d _all_ be dead without you.”

When he finished that thought, Sally turned to look back at Sonic and gestured to him with both hands, and smiled knowingly. He only shrugged back, and this prompted the general to laugh and take a step forward. “Well, in that case, both of you…” He motioned toward himself with his fingers. “Please, step forward.”

Sonic and Sally glanced at each other and nodded, and came closer to the General. When they stopped moving, the general, to everyone’s amazement, knelt down in front of them both. “In the presence of the leaders of The Freedom Fighters,” the general recited, “I humbly request an alliance between our two factions. Should you find yourself beset on all sides, all you need to do is call out, and we’ll take your back. We can only hope you will do the same.” He brought his gaze to look up at them both. “Will you accept our help…?”

Though initially surprised by the General’s formalities, Sonic and Sally looked at each other and nodded slightly. “Sure thing,” Sonic replied with a grin.

The General stood up, and though his eyes were hidden, the smile on his face denoted he was definitely a happy man. He extended his hand, which Sonic and Sally shook to seal the deal. The pause afterward lacked any more awkwardness, but Trystan, in spite of the previous argument, cleared his throat and stepped forward to get the General’s attention.

“You need something, son?” he asked as he turned his head.

Trystan paused, as if unsure of how to ask his question, but said at length, “You...said the entire Filii Rubrum was made of...renegades from New Pacific, right...sir?”

The General nodded. “That’s right. Somethin’ bothering you…?”

Trystan took a deep breath. “Do you know what happened to my family…? Where’s Armin, Decker, and Z?” he asked. “Are they…” He coughed, trying to choke down the lump in his throat. “Are they alive…?”

The General said nothing, but breathed in as if he was going to answer...then stopped. He paced across the room and looked out one of the windows for but a moment before turning back around and replying, “...I can’t say much about anyone other than Decker.”

Trystan’s heart leapt to his throat. “Problem is,” the General continued, “We barely know about what happened to Decker to begin with. See, not long after our exile, I grouped him into Squad Psi, and sent them to try and establish a base back in New Pacific by digging themselves into one of the main control centers for the city’s manufacturing plants. A day passed, and Psi came back to us…” The Freedom Fighters all looked at each other; only Trystan kept his eyes fixed on the General as he continued, “I sent them in fifty men strong. Only twelve came back.”

Rotor bit his lip and Sally exhaled quietly. _That_ was a crippling blow if she ever heard one. “Worse yet, Decker wasn’t among them, and when I asked what happened, they all said they got split up by Robotnik’s automated defenses. They only found two bodies, which we buried, neither one Decker.” The General sighed and went back to staring out the window. “If he’s not dead, I honestly think he’d be better off that way, knowing what Robotnik’s capable of.”

The silence was deafening, and the Freedom Fighters shared worried glances. Trystan’s eyes remained fixed on the General, unblinking and unmoving. The fact that his brother was playing Schrodinger’s Cat and may or may not be in copious amounts of pain was a terrifying thought, to say the least.

“...I think we should go back home. We’ve...got a lot to plan for,” Sally said. The General looked at her, nodded, and marched past her, opening the doors to the outside.

“We’ll fly you back.”

* * *

 

 

Robotnik was leaning back in his chair, drumming his fingers together, and a wiry but dark grin on his face as his personal skiff glided several hundred feet in the air.

“We’re going to land in approximately thirty more minutes, Doctor Robotnik,” Snively informed him.

The doctor sighed. “You could have told me that later, when it would actually be _important,_ Snively,” he corrected.

“My apologies, sir.” They were both quiet for a couple more minutes before Snively asked tentatively, “Sir?”

Robotnik sneered. “What **is it,** Snively?”

He swallowed hard and stuttered, “I, erm, was j-just wondering, sir, if y-you...if you…”

“‘If I **what,’** Snively!?” Robotnik shouted.

“If you thought that the Suppression Squad and Metal Sonic were enough to dispatch the Freedom Fighters, sir!” Snively exclaimed rapidly as he ducked and covered his head.

Robotnik let him cower for a moment before he sat back in his chair, and went back to drumming his fingers together. “Of course not, Snively,” he muttered. “I do always hope for the best, but I am a realist at heart.”

Snively went back to the pilot’s controls. “A real _blowhard,”_ he muttered.

Robotnik’s eyes shifted over his clasped hands. “Did I hear you... _say_ something, Snively?”

“Of course not, sir!”

“I thought not,” Robotnik murmured. “Now make this hunk of scrap move faster! We need to get to the excavation site before those nasty little vermin can even find _out_ about it!”

He slammed his fist on the armrest, causing the skiff to lean heavily to the right side, but Snively did as he was told, throwing all power into the thrusters and making for New Pacific City.


	15. Tycho

The hallway was quiet, save for the muffled yelling coming from behind one of the doors of the offices. It was amazing how well the decrepit walls could keep sound from escaping. The shouting began to ramp up, in both frequency and intensity, until the sound of scraping chairs and heavy footsteps could be heard. Two people dressed in dark blue jackets and grey jeans looked at each other, and then back around the corner they were hiding behind.

Suddenly, the door crashed open and a young man with matted black hair stumbled out, yelling, “Oi, watch the jacket, you-”

He was abruptly cut off as another man with shoulder-length green hair took one step forward and brought a glass bottle down on the other’s head, causing it to shatter and spill the alcohol all over him and the floor. He screamed in pain at the force of impact and fell backward and braced himself with a hand. Two others came through the door, one of them was dressed in full black robes, of all things, and sported shaved lavender hair and a fu manchu moustache while the other, a blonde, held the man who had attacked the other back.

“You ungrateful bastards!” the youngest shouted. “...Fuckin’ hurt!”

“If Laurence lets me go, you’re gonna hurt even more when I shove this bottle up your **ass!”** the other yelled.

“Tycho, Bishop!” Laurence yelled. Both of them stopped shouting at each other, though the death stares remained. Laurence himself let go of Bishop’s arm and shoulder, but that only made him start up again.

“You’re a worthless lump of trash, T,” he spat. “I’unno why we’ve kept you around for this long.”

“‘Worthless?’” he cried indignantly, _“You’re_ the one who’s doing nothing but chugging that low-brow piss-water all day!” motioning to the broken glass. _“I_ should kick _you_ out!”

Bishop threw his head back and started guffawing and Laurence swiftly interposed himself between them. “Both of you,” he said sternly. “You keep this up, I’ll break both your necks. Bishop!” He stopped his laughter and looked at Laurence in an almost robotic fashion. “You and Aristo get back to the number crunching. **Now.”**

Tycho smirked as Bishop squinted at him and he and Aristo went back into the room. He stopped when Laurence glared back at him. “And _you…”_ he muttered, “get out.”

“...What…?” Tycho hunched forward, his arms and jaw dropping in disbelief. “You’re takin’ _his_ fucking side?”

“As much as I hate to admit it,” Laurence replied, crossing his arms, “Bishop’s right. You really haven’t been pulling your weight around all that much in the past couple years.” He leaned forward and scowled directly into Tycho’s eyes. “You’re getting weak. You know we can’t tolerate weakness here.”

Tycho remained frozen in shock for a moment before scowling right back at him. “If you weren’t my brother, you wouldn’t be tolerating _these hands,”_ he seethed, holding his fists up.

“And you’re right,” Laurence shot back, “I won’t. You’ve got two hours. Pack your shit. Get lost. Never come back.”

Tycho remembered being hit pretty hard before. Hundreds of times catching hell from Bishop, and when other members of The Tempest Tides tried to be smart with him...but what Laurence said would’ve floored him if they had any force and weight behind them, like an actual punch. He only stared, stunned, at his brother, who did nothing but glare back down at him. There was dead silence in the hall for another minute before Laurence turned and started walking away. “I’m telling the boys that once you’re gone, they’re authorized to use force to get you to leave if you come back again. Grab what you need and get the **fuck** out.”

Tycho was still frozen as Laurence walked away, and he stayed quiet for another minute before the gravity of the situation hit him and he screamed at the top of his lungs.

“Y’know what…? Fine! Since you jokers think you can handle your damn selves, I’ll leave ya to it, but don’t bother callin’ me back if ya need a big target picked! ‘Cause by **God,** the _next_ time you see my face again, I’ll be strong...Strong enough to kill everyone in this gang by my own **fucking self if I want to…!”** he yelled after Laurence. Once he got it all out of his system and could see through the moisture in his eyes, he realized there was no one else in the hallway...so he sniffed, blinked a couple times, and turned around to leave, muttering to himself.

He turned the corner at the other end of the corridor and kept stomping forward. He saw there were two other members of The Tides loitering near the door at the end. They must have heard all the yelling. He sighed and hung his head, pretending he didn’t notice as he passed them, though as he pushed the door open and left the building, they followed along like lost puppies. Tycho marched across the litter and dry oil-caked street to the warehouse complex next to the apartment building where he used to live. The complex had been abandoned by the New Pacific bureaucracy a dozen or so years back, and a year after that, Laurence formed The Tempest Tides.

On the way over, one of the boys looked over at Tycho, hunched over and face frozen in bitterness, and asked, “So, uh...what was all that about, boss…?” tentatively.

Tycho huffed. “Don’t play stupid, shitstick.” He pushed one of the rusty doors to the warehouse open. Inside was a large entryway that The Tides had turned into one of their many “social areas,” usually filled with beer, cigars and hookah, and on the off-chance any of the punks could snag one, women. Today was a slow day, only two other members of The Tides lounging around and drinking. Of course, once they saw one of their bosses walk in, they sat up immediately and tried to look like they had been doing something important.

“We won’t,” said the girl to his right, “‘cause we heard Laurie said next time we see ya, we’re gonna be shootin’ each other.” They passed through the room and picked up the two other gang members, who quickly asked what was going on. Tycho shut them down. “And you said you’d kill us all,” she continued as the other man explained everything in a hushed tone.

Tycho groaned and replied, “I’ll kill _them,_ that’s for damn sure.” He pulled out a lighter and held out his hand; one of the gang members hurriedly retrieved a cigarette from his pocket and threw it to Tycho. He lit it and took a drag. “One of you go find Damyen, tell him my chopper better be in working order.”

“Got it, boss!” one of the boys exclaimed, and he ran off to the right and rounded a corner to a door that led to a connecting hallway.

“And if it ain’t, tell him he’s got five minutes to _get_ it that way!”

There was a muffled, “Sure thing, boss!” from the door again before he heard it slam shut and Tycho sighed and took another drag. “All of you, get lost. I’m goin’ to get my guns and then I’m gettin’ gone.” There was hushed muttering for a moment, but Tycho silenced them all by stating, “I said **‘get.’”**

So they scattered, some faster than others, but they left him alone all the same, and he marched forward, through a different connection hallway, and into a stairwell. He looked up the empty center of the shaft. It was at least seven floors up; he sighed and started stomping up the stairs, all the way to the sixth floor, and entered another hallway. It was long but not as wide as most others in the complex, and there were several doors on either side of the hallway. He walked all the way down, to about the second door from the end in a total of fifteen, and opened it up.

Inside was, to put it bluntly, a mess. Lockers on all sides of the room, crammed with old clothes and magazines, the floor was littered with toys that hadn’t seen daylight in well over ten years, and in the back of the room, mounted on a wall, was a weapon rack, holding two steel pistols. Tycho walked in and down the open aisle in the middle of the room, something made and further refined after years of entering and leaving. He went up to the display and took the two guns and their holsters. “Valhalla Marshalls…” He spun them around his index fingers twice, and held them up to eye-level. “Twelve shots each…” He brought his arms back down and kept spinning them, around both fingers, before tossing the one on his right up into the air, switching the left into his right hand, catching the one he threw, and spun them in reverse. He tossed them both around his back in staggered succession, caught them, and aimed them. “...More than enough to stop a man dead in his tracks.”

He remained standing like that, like some sort of washed-up action hero before sighing and wrapping them around his waist. The shock was gone. He didn’t feel angry or disheartened anymore. Just numb.

* * *

 

The vehicle shop was full of whoever else could make it in, and instead of looking truly _angry,_ most of the The Tempest Tides seemed confused and...almost sad. They mulled about, centering around some motorcycle with royal-blue paint and maglev wheels, until the door to the shop was thrown open and Tycho stomped in. They all immediately stopped and stood at attention as he walked over to his chopper and sat down in the driver’s seat. As he gave the dashboard a once-over, a man in studded leathers and covered in piercings cautiously strode up to him. “...Boss…?”

“Fuck you want, Damyen?” Damyen paused a moment, which prompted Tycho to ask, “Fuck’s wrong with this thing _now,_ asshole?”

“Nothing, nothing, man! I just…” he trailed off and looked around hesitantly.

“You ‘what?’” Tycho implored.

Damyen scratched the back of his neck and muttered, “Well... _we_ just...we don’t know what we’re gonna do without you, dude.”

Tycho stared at him for a minute, then looked around at everyone else. The punks all gathered around wore various levels of concern; some hid it better than the others. Tycho, on the other hand, took one last puff of his smoke and tossed it on the concrete floor. He pressed a button on the dashboard of the cycle, and one of the garage doors slid up and open to the industrial street outside.

“You guys’re fucked.”

With his peace spoken, Tycho revved up the engine, and with a loud _*crack!*_ the chopper lurched forward and he steered it out and down the street. Pretty soon, he had left the industrial zone, and was roaring along the main streets of the city. Just as downtrodden and grey as it had always looked. He scoffed and cranked the right handle, increasing his speed until he was going seventy-five in a forty-five mile per hour zone. If the authorities wanted to come after him, he wouldn’t object. Maybe he’d kill a few before they could bring him down. “Fat chance they’ll get me to talk about anything before my throat gets slit,” he muttered.

After a couple minutes, he hit the freeway that led north and out of New Pacific. The highrises were streaming past him as a blur of glass and steel, and other cars would occasionally pass by as well, or in most cases, he’d speed by them, with a few obscenities exchanged. It usually ended with Tycho flashing one of his pistols. Before long, he’d made it to the “end” of the freeway, and took the next exit to go back down to a residential area, though in this case, “slum” was probably the more accurate description.

He wove around dilapidated apartments and half-collapsed storefronts before cutting through a couple back alleys until, finally, he’d made it out.

Tycho stopped his motorbike and leaned back in the seat. It didn’t look nearly as grand as he had expected. There was just a wide expanse of grass and hills covering about seventy-five percent of what he could see, and the other twenty-five was what was directly behind him. He sat there, unmoving, for at least five minutes before he groaned and took the reigns again, revving up the engine and launching off into the horizon.

* * *

 

The countryside was as wide as could be, but it all passed in a blur. Tycho was beginning to wish he’d taken a pack of smokes for the road, as he began craving the taste of raw tobacco and nicotine. “Too late now, ya dumbass,” he scolded himself.

He’d felt like he’d been driving days, but he figured, realistically, he’d been on the road for about four hours, breaking to stretch every few miles or so. He hadn’t seen anything besides the green grass and a few forests, which he swerved to avoid, as well as birds flying across the horizon. Tycho spat as he sped along the open expanse. “Fuck. Me. ‘Pick a goddamned direction and stick with it,’ I said. Fuck’s wrong with me?” he fumed. He would’ve harped on himself longer, but out of the corner of his eye, he noticed something off. While the rest of the sky was growing darker, there was one section in the east where he could clearly see light reflecting off the clouds. He stared for a minute...then it hit him.

Tycho jerked a hard right on the controls, speeding him along toward his new, gleaming destination. For once in his life, he felt a smile creep across his face.

He rode on, for another hour and a half before he could get a clear view of what he was chasing. He squinted at it. The buildings were almost all coated in dark grey chrome, certainly not an overlander city. Tycho kept staring for a moment longer before he noticed a highway ramp off to the side that obviously led into the city limits. He made another hard right and kept moving. He got a mile in and _everything_ changed. As Tycho looked from side to side at the sidewalks, he saw no one else walking around. He grimaced. With what he knew of the world outside New Pacific’s walls, he could only find one explanation for this.

Driving along, he saw, between the buildings speeding by, a palace, clad in grey and stretching up into the overcast sky. He stared at it for a second before groaning and spitting into the wind. “Goddammit.” Tycho hadn’t been taught much geography, but he knew enough about how purebred overlanders and mobians hated each other. He pursed his lips. Maybe he could get a free pass through Mobotropolis if he proved he could be just as ruthless. _After all,_ he thought, _these fleabags don’t know about us blackstrains. Probably thought Megapolis was the only settlement of ours that disappeared into the ground._

Lights. Tycho snapped himself out of his thoughts and could see, far up ahead, the beams of floodlights aimed down the road. From what else he could see beyond the blinding rays, there seemed to be a security gate manned by two guards. “Ah, _fuck,”_ he spat again. It didn’t take long for the two guards to see the cycle driving up the road, and Tycho was fairly certain they were waving for him to stop.

So he did.

He swung his bike to the side, bringing it to a stop so that it was perpendicular to the road, and he stepped off the seat in one swift motion, walking forward with his hands in his pockets and his shoulders slumped forward. His eyes hardened into a hateful gaze that could bore through stone.

But the two guards, dressed in their dull yellow uniforms, either couldn’t tell or they were painfully oblivious to his attitude. The latter was most likely, as when they realized an overlander was approaching them, they both smirked...and then started laughing.

“Hey, Rail!” one of them exclaimed, “Looks like we got a sheep that’s too far from home!”

“Holy shit, Marc, you right!” he replied. Rail took a few steps toward Tycho. “What’s a li’l sheep like you doin’ away from your _crater,_ eh?”

Tycho was by no means sympathetic to his pureblood cousins’ city’s fate, but he wasn’t going to take any taunts like that lying down. At least, not until the two of them came closer. “Well…?” Marc jeered, “what’cha doin’, li’l lamb? Can’t hear ya over your ‘superior and peaceful ways.’”

The two mobians paused and shared a glance, then broke out in uproarious laughter. Yet, Tycho made no sign of moving. All he did was stand still; only blinking to show he was still alive, and by now, the two guards were eyeing him suspiciously. “Marc?” Rail asked, “He’s not doin’ anything. Y’think he’s retarded?”

“Beats me. Maybe the little cunt’s mute.” Rail stared down at Tycho and then chuckled. “Hey, maybe he was a POW back in the day. I bet they tore his tongue out.” They laughed, but it didn’t last long.

Tycho, in the blink of an eye, pulled out his pistols and threw himself at Rail, and wrapped his left arm around his neck in an instant, and aimed the gun in his free hand directly at Marc. He pulled back with his arm, forcing a stunned Rail to start choking. Marc would’ve yelled something along the lines of “Holy shit!” but Tycho beat him to it.

“Open the gate,” he demanded, doing his best to keep Rail from squirming.

“W...what…?”

“I said open the gate, you sorry excuse for an asylum patient.” He kept his right arm aimed as close to Marc’s head as he could. “Do it now, or you might be payin’ _this_ dumb cunt’s life insurance.”

Marc backed up, going closer to the control station. It was a small booth, but was still big enough to pilot the gate controls...as well as hide a proton rifle under the control panel. “Hang-hang on, man,” Marc stammered out, “don’t do something drastic.”

Tycho paused and flicked his eyes down to look at his hostage. “...You’re right,” he said, “I don’t need to do anything drastic.” He remained still for a minute longer before he quickly turned his free hand around, pulled the trigger, and after the gunshot stopped ringing, let Rail’s body fall to the road. He quickly aimed both his guns at Marc and added grimly, “Why do something drastic when I can do something _efficient?”_ He approached Marc until his pistols were practically pressed against the mobian’s nose. “Open the gate,” he deadpanned.

After a tense, dead silent pause, Marc turned and fully went into the booth. He started to nervously fiddle with the controls, occasionally looking over his shoulder at a very angry and very impatient Tycho, who would shake his guns at him to get him to work faster. Still, after a few minutes of quiet punctuated only by buttons, the force gate in front of them fizzled out.

He stared down the road. The highway, from what he could see, took a right, and cut through the city center. Tycho sighed, and thanked whatever cruel God was out there that at least his bike didn’t need physical fuel, then shot a glance back at Marc. He was still cowering in the toll booth, but he could feel the butt of his proton rifle with his boot. As soon as Tycho turned around, he’d be dead. Tycho looked back down the road one more time, and he stared at it long and hard. Finally, he cracked his neck, and then there was another gunshot. By the time Marc’s body had crumpled to the floor, he had turned around and was walking back to his bike.

He sat down in the seat, revved up the engine, and took off down wherever the dark road ahead of him would go, and he drove on. After awhile, he noticed, out of the corner of his eye, a strange, dull silver light snaked its way up over the rooftops of the city center below. He couldn’t tell where it was coming from exactly, but it looked like it originated in the open city square, just in front of the castle.

Tycho quickly looked back at the road and tried to ignore it. But with each passing second, the curiosity pestered him, wriggling like a worm in the back of his mind.

“Fuck’s sake.” He made another hard right on his bike, and launched himself off the highway, fell a few feet, and hit a local road, roaring toward where he’d seen the action about to go down.

* * *

 

There was groaning and some muttered curses as The Suppression Squad all stood up, still catching their breath. After taking a look around Alicia gritted her teeth and wiped the dust off the shoulder of her coat. “That went to hell in a handbasket fast. Can’t really be surprised...” she trailed off as she shot a sideways glance at Scourge.

The hedgehog himself was looking around trying to place their location, but he did managed to hear Alicia’s comment. When he saw her glaring at him out of the corner of her eye, he scoffed indignantly and spat, “Oh, so it’s _my_ fault now, allova sudden?”

“Kintobor-” Alicia coughed and corrected herself, _“Robotnik_ backstabbed us and _you_ didn’t see it coming?”

“That’s _your_ job!” Scourge exclaimed, throwing his arms up in the air. “You’re _supposed_ to be the planner! The guy who sees how shit’s gonna go down before anything _actually_ goes down!”

Alicia gritted her teeth again. “I can’t be your goddamn babysitter every day of the week!” she yelled. “I got my own shit to worry about!”

“Oh, like that pregnancy test you told me about a few days ago?” Scourge retorted.

**“Shut up...!”**

“To be fair...” Scourge and Alicia quickly turned their heads to look at Miles, who was adjusting his cufflinks. “You _both_ screwed the pooch on this one. You got someone suspicious enough to look into a possible case of mistaken identity,” he said, pointing to Scourge, “and you were dumb enough to stay in a clusterfuck of a fight at the end. Once again, this proves I’ve got to do _everything_ around here.”

Scourge’s teeth suddenly grinded together like millstones and he stomped up to Miles. “Didn’t see **you** cookin’ up any backup plans, **pixel-brain,”** he seethed.

“Because _I_ thought you had everything under control!” Miles replied indignantly. “But as usual, I was sorely mistaken.”

His collar was quickly snatched up by a now-furious Scourge. “Oh, **now** you’re gonna get it!” He wound up his free hand, tensed and ready to strike, but at that very moment, like some sort of divine intervention, the sound of a hoverbike drew closer until it stopped at the edge of the plaza. The Suppression Squad whipped their heads around to look who had found them, expecting another civilian too nosy for their own good and had planned to deal with in the usual manner. An overlander on a bike, however, was the last thing they expected to see.

On the other side, Tycho saw a gathering of rough-looking mobians that he realized he shouldn’t be dealing with right now. “Yeah, fuck that,” he muttered. He revved up the engine of his bike again, but as he turned it, he heard one of them yell something he really didn’t want to hear.

“An overlander! Get that sonovabitch…!”

“Are you fucking-” Before Tycho could complete that thought, he felt his bike get hit with some sort of energy pulse, and the maglevs shorted out. “Oh my fucking-!”

Boomer stood back up to full height after shooting a focused EMP from the augments on his forearms and he grinned. “One sitting duck for you, Scourge.”

“Get his ass!”

Tycho heard that command yelled and heard several pairs of boots hitting the ground, running toward him. He paused. His gaze hardened. Tycho pulled out his two pistols and spun around, firing them off like a cowboy, and quickly recognized four possible targets: Alicia, Miles, Boomer, and Buns, which he began shooting at. Of course, the four of them were moving in from different directions, meaning he had to pick and chose which side he shot, decisions that severely impacted his focus.

He’d been punched several times, by Alicia, then Buns, then Miles, then Buns again, and he was fairly certain, after receiving a nasty jab to the face, he’d have a great big shiner to parade around for a few days. Tycho bent low to the ground, spreading his feet apart and fired off another volley at Buns. Thanks to having been hit in the head multiple times over, not a single shot landed. He slid the power packs out and hooked them to his belt before sliding the two spares he had in, letting the old ones recharge.

Tycho looked up just in time to see Miles coming at him with a kick, which he raised his arms to block and threw Miles off. “This...won’t get any easier,” Miles said, breathing hard, “There’s seven of us and...one of you. Just give up.”

“I’ll die first,” Tycho spat back.

Suddenly, he felt something hit him in the side of the head and it sent him tumbling through the grass for a few feet. He struggled to keep himself from spontaneously blacking out, kneeling on all fours, panting heavily. Tycho hadn’t seen anything happen; he only heard someone running and then a rush of wind. He looked up to see a streak of blue moving around the perimeter of the city square. He felt something running down his lip and wiped it off with his hand. Blood. “That hedgehog…”

Tycho forced himself back up and began taking potshots at Scourge. Each one fell just short of hitting the mark, as least, that’s what Tycho guessed. Scourge was moving too fast to tell. Tycho, then decided, to take aim where he guessed Scourge would be; although he had to jump backward when he saw Alicia swinging her whip toward him. Once he was safely far enough away, he took aim and fired.

He didn’t expect Scourge to change trajectory on a dime and come barreling toward him. That was the last thing he saw before he saw something coming straight for his face and his vision went black.

* * *

 

Scourge, Alicia, and Miles strode down through the dungeons. Tycho had been quite uncompromising the past few hours, but repeated interrogations had given them the insight to his mind. It was slowly breaking down, they could see it in his eyes and his posture. The three of them reached the lowest level and went to the third cell on the right, and there he was.

He was in a sorry state now, sitting on the floor hunched over, breathing heavily. Scourge grinned when he saw him, and Tycho could seem to tell right away when he had company. He brought his lowered head up some so that his face was partially visible under his shaggy black hair, furious scowl and all.

“So…” Scourge began, “Care to spill the beans on who you are an’ why you’re here? Or do we have ta go through the motions **again…?”**

Tycho remained silent, but he stood himself up and leaned back against the wall of the cell. His face and voice remained completely void of emotion as he said, “Fine. I’ll talk.” The three others shared a quick mildly-surprised, but still victorious smirk with each other. “...On one condition.”

Almost immediately the smiles disappeared, and Alicia looked about ready to flog Tycho right then and there. Scourge held her back with an outstretched arm, and Tycho casually walked up to the proton beams. He stood there, glaring the three of them down and letting the silence sink in before he asked:

“Can I have a smoke? It’s almost been a day an’ I need my damn fix.”

They all looked at each other for a moment before Scourge scoffed and raced out of the corridor and out of the dungeons. He was back a few seconds later with a cigarette, which he tossed in between the cell bars. “Need a light?”

Tycho grabbed it out of the air, looked it over for a second, and then muttered, “...Yeah.”

 _“Ha!_ Forget it, asshole,” Scourge taunted.

Tycho stared at him as Alicia and Miles shared a hushed chuckle. After awhile he shrugged, reached into his jacket, and pulled out his own lighter. “Gotta do _everything_ my own damn self, don’t I?” he muttered bitterly. He took a drag and watched the other three’s wide-eyed expressions in a sideways glance. Finally, he exhaled and watched as the smoke congealed and dispersed just a few inches above his head. “...Fuuuuuck.”

He was content to stew in the silence before he heard Scourge bark, “A’right druggie, you’ve got what you wanted. Start talkin’ or I’ll come in there myself an’ make you _wish_ you’d done it sooner!”

 _“Hrm._ Guess you’re right,” Tycho said. He took another drag, breathed out, and explained, “Tycho. New Pacific. Got kicked out.”

Scourge sighed and covered his face with his palm. “Gee, thanks, that explains a lot _of fuckin’ nothing!_ Gimme a complete fucking story, ya walleyed inbred!”

“Oughta work on your ‘indoor voice.’ Didn’t your mama ever give you that lesson?” Scourge looked about ready to turn off the cell bars and race up to the roof of the castle so he could drop Tycho off of it, but he calmly continued, “My name’s Tycho Cronus, and I’m from New Pacific City. It’s a few hours’ ride out to the west.”

Scourge was about to fire off another slew of insults laced with the occasional question before Miles shoved him aside and began talking to Tycho instead. “How long have you...lived there?”

“My whole life,” he shot back.

“How many years?”

Tycho sighed and looked off to his left. “Nineteen years. Give or take a couple months, I really don’t care,” he said after taking another drag. “Got kicked out of the gang I used to run.”

“You’re awfully... _forthcoming_ with this information,” Miles droned.

After pausing and taking another smoke, Tycho shrugged and stared back at his captors. “Got no other ties left there. Pacific could get nuked from orbit’n I won’t bat an eye.” Everyone was silent. Only Alicia and Scourge looked around to grin at each other, something Tycho noticed and didn’t like. _But then,_ he thought, _it’s not like I can really_ do _anything above voice my discontent._

“Well, well, well…” Scourge began, “looks like we got us a new member of the team.”

Tycho started choking on his cigarette after almost inhaling it from shock after he went to take one more drag. _“...Burn in hell…!”_ he coughed out. It took him another minute of choking before he cleared his throat completely and yelled, “I’d eat my own eyeballs before agreeing to team up with you!”

This made Alicia laugh. It was surprisingly low-pitched for a woman, which Tycho found somewhat menacing. His training forced him to keep a straight face. “Then I guess you can _rot_ in that cell,” she proclaimed. She cracked her neck and continued, “Oh, don’t worry, you won’t get bored. We’ll take you out at least once a day and keep you...how do I put it…? _On your toes?”_ Alicia chuckled grimly again. “You’ll know your still _alive,_ that’s for sure.”

“More torture?” Tycho paused...and chuckled. “Just know beforehand that I ain’t bein’ held responsible for what I say.”

“Screamin’ for mercy won’t make it any easier,” Scourge taunted.

Tycho couldn’t help but chuckle at his ignorance. Scourge ignored his previous comment and shrugged. “Suit’cher self,” he said as he ran off. Alicia and Miles followed him.

This left Tycho to consider his options. Being stuck in New Pacific had led him nowhere, and now he was stuck in a jail cell and going nowhere even faster. He sighed dejectedly and leaned on the wall, mulling over his options for a moment before calling, “Hey! Come back’ere a sec!” He waited, half-expecting no one to show up at all, but to his surprise (and very, very, _very_ mild relief) he saw Alicia and Miles return to his cell, gazing at him curiously. Tycho threw his cigarette on the ground and put it out. “I’ll take your offer on joinin’ this stupid team of yours.”

This seemed to trigger another blue flash behind the two other members of The Suppression Squad, and Scourge pushed them both out of his way. It made Tycho scoff. “Selective hearing issues too, huh?”

“Nah, absolutely not,” Scourge replied. He punched a few buttons on the keypad lock next to the cell and the proton bars evaporated, but before Tycho could even get up, Scourge had marched into the cell and grabbed Tycho by the collar. “But remember,” he threatened, “you’re followin’ everything and anything I say to a ‘T,’ capishe?”

 _“Erck,_ Jesus!” Tycho struggled a bit as he tried to loosen Scourge’s grip. “And if I refuse...?”

Scourge remained silent, only staring dead into Tycho’s eyes...before he punched him in the jaw and letting him fall to the ground, spitting out blood that was now pooling in his mouth. “Then _that_ happens.” Tycho stared up at Scourge, who only grinned maliciously and ran off again.

He struggled to get the stars out of his vision and stand up when he heard Miles add, “And that goes double for _us._ You’re _weak_ until proven otherwise.” The other two left, and Tycho was left alone. He sauntered out after the bleeding had died down some and looked at the long hallway, leading upstairs and to a strange new road. He checked his pistols, sighed, and resigned himself to marching up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we’re back. I needed a break from writing this fic for awhile so I could focus on other projects/school. Mostly my other projects tho, I won’t lie.


	16. A Man Who Lives

Year 3236, Day 147:

The skies over Kntohole were clear until the helibirds suddenly materialized out of thin air. They let down their ladders so the Freedom Fighters could safely get to the walkways hung between the tree trunks, since forest was too dense to go down to the ground itself. The residents of Knothole took notice of the ships immediately, and either flocked toward them to see what was going on, or running away as fast as they could. It took about fifteen minutes of explaining from both the verifexes that came with them, Sonic, and Sally to keep the others from getting too worked up; but the members of the Filii Rubrum bid goodbye and went back up into their helicopters, which quickly phased out of sight as they flew back toward Megapolis.

Trystan looked in the direction of the retreating stealth-birds. “Hot damn, what a day,” he sighed. He was about to lean backward and stretch when someone else slapped his back.

“Well, it ain’t over yet,” came Sonic’s cocky response. “We still gotta run over to Switch Nightmare Zone.”

Sally even walked up to the both of them, and everyone else circled up around them to hear what she had to say. “Sonic’s right...but I think we can stand to take it easy for awhile.”

Antoine sighed through clenched teeth. “Zat eez zee best news I ‘ave ‘eard all day,” he whispered.

“How about a party, then?” Sally asked with a smile.

Everyone began to whisper excitedly amongst themselves, but Trystan cocked his head, squinted, and flipped the hood of his sweatshirt back. “A party? Really? Now?”

“What, are ya complaining?” Sonic joked.

“No,” he replied as he scratched his head, “I’m just...surprised, is all.”

Sally pursed her lips and added, “I mean, it’s not gonna be a full-blown...y’know... _soiree_ or anything, but we can just set up speakers in the main plaza and relax for a night. I certainly don’t see any harm in it.”

“Awesome!” Sonic laughed, “‘Bout time ya gave us some time off, Sal.”

Bunnie walked up to her and exclaimed, “Shoot, sugah, Ah oughta git my rear in gear an’ make some food fer this.”

“What? No, Bunnie, it’s fine, we don’t need anyone to make anything. We can-” Bunnie was gone before Sally could finish protesting, running away back to her cabin. Trystan, meanwhile, placed a finger on his lips thoughtfully. Sally sighed and exhaled. “...Okay, then. Uh, Antoine?”

Antoine stood rigid and at attention, saluting for good measure. “Yes, my princess...?”

“Would you go put an announcement on telling everyone to meet in the central plaza at...about eight tonight, if they can manage?” she asked, ignoring his formalities.

“But of course! I will use such enticing words zat _none_ will be able to resist attending!” and he scampered off excitedly.

Tails began to walk away next, toward his workshop. “I better go keep working on the plane before we head out next,” he said.

“Think you can find the time to help me set up some killer decorations, bud?” Sonic called.

“Yeah, I can!”

“Well, don’t make it fancy, you two!” Sally exclaimed. “Remember, this is just supposed to be a night off, not anything big!” Sonic only gave her a salute and dashed off, and she turned around to address the only other two people around. Sally stopped short when she realized something rather crucial about that point. “Wait...where’d Trystan go…?”

* * *

 

Sonic and Tails had just finished throwing some streamers up into the branches of the trees and stood back to admire their work. Sonic gave them a once-over and leaned down to whisper, “I like the green ones, bud. Which crate did’ja find those in?”

“Sonic, they’re yours from your birthday party _last_ year!” Tails exclaimed, smiling. Sonic laughed along with him and trussed his hair.

“Guys!”

Sonic and Tails turned their heads to see Sally running up to them, and as per usual, Sonic was the first to wave back and say, “Heya, Sal! Whatcha think of the decor? Personally, I think we coulda done Knothole up a bit better, but ya kinda put a fast deadline on us.”

“It looks great you two, but I thought I _specifically_ said, and I quote: ‘Nothing fancy,’” she replied.

Tails rolled his eyes. “Well, you should know Sonic’s gonna go all out when you’re giving the orders, Sally.”

“Hey!” Sally crossed her arms and smiled as Sonic poked Tails playfully, causing him to laugh. He looked back up and grinned sheepishly. “I mean...come on, Sal, what’s a party without the right party fixin’s?”

Sally only glanced up and shook her head. “Well…” she sighed, “you already went through all the trouble, so I can’t really blame you...and it _does_ look nice. Good work, you two.”

* * *

 

After placing the announcement, Antoine had gone back to the kitchen, as he had considered making his own desert plate for the party. The fact that Knothole only supported around three-hundred people, Freedom Fighters included, meant that not all that much food needed to be provided, and he had run into Bunnie along the way. She hadn’t cooked anything by then because, according to her, she was “on the fence” on what dessert to make; a sentiment Antoine shared. The both of them immediately started tossing ideas back and forth between them. It was going about as well as expected.

“Ehh, I was thinking somezing more along ze lines of... _cerise gȃteau basque,”_ Antoine surmised.

“Ah’m tellin’ ya, ‘Twan,” Bunnie replied as she shook her head, “we don’ need no fancy-schmancy foreign cuisayn. Jus’ git enough fer a peach cobbler ‘r apple pie an’ we’re set!”

“I am thinking not! Any party, no matter ze size, is in need of a fitting dessairt,” Antoine declared.

“An- **twan…”**

“Bunnie, all I am saying eez zat we do not need sometheeng so seemple,” Antoine insisted.

This made Bunnie freeze in place, and her head whipped around to glare at him. Antoine froze in shock from her sudden movements, but rather than yell at him...a wry smirk crossed her face. “Oh, really…?” Antoine tried to stammer out a deflection from the subject, then an apology, but Bunnie cut him off. “Y’all think my cookin’s _simple,_ huh?” She leaned in close to his face and continued, “Ah take that ‘s a _challenge,_ mistah.”

Antoine blinked. “A...challenge…?”

“Mm- **hm,”** she affirmed, “You’n me. In our el’ment. Mano-a-woman, facin’ off to see who’s really got the rights to call each other’s cookin’ _simple.”_

There was complete silence between them as Antoine tried to wrap his head around what to do next (and the fact that Bunnie hadn’t hit him). Quickly enough, though, his mind willed courage into him, and he puffed up his chest. “Ha, ha! _Oui!_ Very well!” he boasted, “I am accepting your challenge, and we shall duel not with swords or wairds, but with domestic skill!”

“Y’all better not think’a chickenin’ out on me,” Bunnie teased as she walked away.

Antoine threw his head back and laughed. “You had best to be accepting defeat! I will knock your socks off...!”

“Ah don’t even _wear_ socks, ‘Twan!” Bunnie shot back.

* * *

 

Trystan had run off at the first chance he got and had been experimenting in the kitchen the whole day. He’d made sure to lock the door to the room he was using. Couldn’t risk spoiling the surprise. But finally, after hours of trial-and-error, endless back-and-forth, he believed he’d finally found the perfect combination. He poured out a small volume of cider he’d found in one of the cabinets and then added his own fruit juice mixture to said glass, picked it up, and swirled it around before he drank it.

He breathed out. It was tangy and went down smooth; the feeling of a summer night with his siblings and all their old friends hanging out in the alley behind his house. He sighed, smiled and opened his eyes to relish the taste before he packed the cider and his juice up and cleaned everything he had used before he went back to his cabin.

* * *

 

The dimming light of the sun had already been blotted out by the magnificent trees that towered above Knothole, lending the whole village to being bathed in a halo of deep red and orange. It was getting dark, but not completely night; most of the civilians had come out to the village square.

The streamers were blowing in a gentle breeze, speakers had been set up, and lights shone brightly around the plaza. The civilians were already out and mingling, taking casually to each other. Of course, Bunnie was getting other things arranged; more important things. She had a table set up and two peach cobblers on it, and had just finished putting everything together, wiping her forehead and nodding. “Like ta see An-twan beat _this,”_ she chuckled. She looked up to see none other than Antoine himself carrying a couple trays and a small table to the other side of the plaza. Bunnie only paused a moment before she left her table to walk over to him. When she was within his cone of vision he stopped abruptly and turned to look at her.

“There y’are, ‘Twan!” she exclaimed. “An’ ‘bout time, too. Party’s almost kickin’ in full-swing.”

Antoine chuckled as he readjusted his grip on the folded table he was holding. “Yes, but of course! I...I would not miss zis chance to relax!”

Bunnie paused, and then smirked a she put her hands on her hips and leaned in closer. “Would’a preferred missin’ gettin’ yer posterior kicked in tha cookin’ department, Ah bet?” she replied.

That comment made Antoine straighten up and, surprisingly, put on a serious expression as he exclaimed, “Why, I zink not! I will have you know I have pairfected my cherry cake recipe, and eet will blow whatevair _you_ have _out_ of zee watair!”

Bunnie smirked and walked away, back to her table which was in clear sight of Antoine, and gestured for him to come over. This, understandably, surprised him, and when he got close enough he asked, “Erm, may I be asking why you called me over here?”

“Ta set yerself up!” Bunnie replied. “Ain’t gonna be much’ve a competition if ya ain’t close by.” Antoine stuttered for a minute, at a complete loss for words, before he stared back at Bunnie, sighed, and took a step back. He set the table on the ground and folded it out, and briskly placed his dessert on top. “Wasn’t all that bad, now, was it, ‘Twan?”

Antoine adjusted the cuffs on his uniform and replied, “Perhaps eet eez just as well. My arms were getting quite, how do you say...accosted, I think.”

Bunnie quirked an eyebrow. “Y’all mean ‘exhausted?’”

_“Oui, je vous remercie.”_

“You two work fast.” Bunnie and Antoine both looked up to see Sally, Sonic, and Amy approaching them.

“Bunnie waved, and when they all got closer she said, “Glad ta see y’all out heah. An’ just in time, too!”

Sonic leaned back, holding his arms behind his head and grinned. “C’mon, you know I wouldn’t miss a party. Tails is comin’ too, he just needs to do some touch-ups on his and Rotor’s new plane project,” he explained.

“Well, y’all know I’ll save some’a mah cobbler fer ‘im.” She paused to glance at Antoine and added, “Y’all’ll save a piece’a that cake too, wont’cha?”

“Um, yes, of course, but I don’t see why-”

“Gonna need Tails’ input t’ see who’s got the best dessert-cookin’ skills,” Bunnie said with another sly grin. Antoine bit his nails for a second, then murmured to himself, nodding accordingly. “Speakin’ of, Ah bet y’all’re done waitin’,” Bunnie continued. “...Ready, An-twan?”

Almost on reflex, Antoine stood up straight and at attention. The corners of his mouth curled into a cocky grin as he boasted, “Ah-ha, yes, always ready to throw down at zee kitchen table.”

“Great. Now he’s not gonna shut up for weeks,” Sonic whispered to Bunnie, causing her to giggle. The three of them each took a piece of the dessert that was baked; Amy was the only one who tried Antoine’s cherry cake, which disappointed him, but he tried not to let it show. It only took a moment for them to chow down on one course, and then immediately go for the next plate.

“Welp…” Sonic muttered as he kept chewing, “I have’ta say Bunnie wins here, _clearly.”_

“Oh, be out zee front entrance!” Antoine challenged. He quickly recomposed himself, and cleared his throat. _“Eh-herm._ You would not know zee pairfect dessairt eef eet punched you in zee face anyway.”

“They were both great, but the cobbler’s breading was a bit _too_ soft for me. It felt too wet, but the peaches were cooked perfectly, and the batter was extra creamy and smooth,” Amy lectured. “That being said, Antoine’s cherry cake felt sort of dry, and I thought the cherries he put in were overripe. It tasted a little bitter, but actually, it added to the taste to balance it all out, so overall, I-”

“Amy, I didn’t know you were a restaurant critic,” Sally interrupted her with a small laugh.

Amy chuckled a little too and added, “Well, what I’m getting at is that it’s hard to pick.”

“Sally-girl, what’cha thank?” Bunnie asked.

Sally had been taking her time chewing on each piece of the confection she’d had thoroughly. To say it was a close call was an understatement. _“Mmm…_ They’re both _pretty_ good...”

“Would you save a piece for me, please?” Nicole piped up from inside the front pocket on Sally’s jacket.

“Oh, _ha, ha,_ very funny,” Sally retorted. “I never should’ve sent you and Sonic in together to take out that underground secondary reactor.”

“You were sick that day, Sally. Besides, we all make honest mistakes.”

While Sally busied herself with pulling Nicole out and flipping her monitor open to glare at the screen, Sonic was busy devouring a couple extra, albeit smaller, pieces of Bunnie’s cobbler. He chewed on them for about seven second before muttering, “All I know ith I shoulda grabbed somebin’ to drink when I had the chanch, anfd now I regret it,” through a full mouth.  


No sooner had Sonic swallowed then he saw a hand appear over his shoulder, holding a plastic cup. His eyes widened and he turned around to see Trystan, grinning and holding a large thermos and a bag of more plastic cups in his of-hand. “I heard there was a lack of drinks, so I came runnin’.”

“So _that’s_ where you been all day,” Sonic chuckled as he took the cup.

“Yeah, what _were_ you doing?” Sally added.

Trystan gave him a half-smirk and looked around. “Oh, y’know. Little bit of this, little bit of that,” he said. He paused for a second before hoisting up the thermos triumphantly and bragging, “And makin’ the best damn party cocktail on the face of the planet, of course.”

“You sound _pretty_ confident,” Sonic pointed out.

“Hey, if you wanted a sampler, you could’ve _said_ so,” Trystan chuckled. He stepped over to Antoine’s table in a flash and barely even got out the words, “Mind if I use this?” before dumping his supplies on the table and opening up his thermos. He snatched several plastic cups, laid them out in a line, and tipped the thermos. An amber-tinted liquid spilled out, and Trystan barely lingered on one cup before moving his arm to the next, but in a manner of seconds, he’d filled up the cups just slightly under halfway. There were six in total, and he held up two. “Any takers?”

Nobody said a word for a moment before Bunnie shrugged and reached out to take it, so Trystan handed it off. And then Sonic held out his hand, so Trystan picked up another cup and gave it over to him, too. “I should warn ya, though, I tested it and it’s got some kick to it-”

 **“Whoo...!”** Everyone froze to stare at Bunnie, who was glancing from her drink to Trystan and grinning. “Sugah, that there’s a git-up-an’- _kiss_ -me drink!”

The pause that followed was destined to be cut short as Bunnie, Sally, Trystan, and Sonic started laughing. Sonic quickly broke it up by joking, “Welp, bottoms up!” and he chugged as much of his drink as possible before he brought it back down and gagged. _“Woah…!_ Trys, what’ja put _in_ this stuff?”

“Hard cider with added fruit juice. Artificially fermented, of course,” he explained.

“I guessed,” Sonic commented as he dumped the rest of his drink out.

This garnered attention from Sally, who gasped and slapped Sonic’s arm. “Rude…!” she hissed. “Trystan probably worked hard on that, staying cooped up in the kitchen all day.”

“Ah, relax, kid,” he told Sally with a dismissive wave of his hand. He paused, crossed his arms and sighed. “Do kinda wish I had more time, it doesn’t taste the same.”

“Sugah, if yer callin’ this yer worst, Ah can’t _wait_ ta see yer best!” Bunnie exclaimed.

Her interjection made Trystan snap around and he quickly noticed there was still some cobbler left over. “Hey, speaking of your best…” he began, though he stoped himself when he realized he was leaning over and approaching the table. He glanced up. “...May I, uh…?”

“Oh mah stars, go ‘head, sugah. Plenty ta go ‘round,” Bunnie said.

Trystan was still motionless for a couple seconds before a grabbed a small piece of the cobbler and stuffed it in his mouth. His eyes widened and then he closed them, seemingly lost in bliss. It was _surprisingly_ good; probably better than some of the stuff his mom had left behind, although that was because Z had been the one cooking, and not their mother. _“Wow,”_ Trystan muttered. “...Pretty good…” he added nodding his head.

“Hey, if you’re gonna eat Bunnie’s cobbler, you gotta try Antoine’s cherry cake,” Amy insisted.

Trystan stopped short and turned his head around to glance at Antoine’s table; the mobian himself straightened up when Trystan looked at him. After a minute of awkward silence, Trystan shrugged and grabbed the spatula resting on the plate, and ate the cake in about two bites. It was a small cake, to be fair. He chewed for a second before his tongue got hit with a wave of flavor and sweetness. The fact that it was slightly dry did nothing to detract from the experience. He paused for another minute, then swallowed, letting the taste linger before he talked.

“Who’s gonna be mad at me if I nominate Antoine?”

Sonic casually raised his hand.

“...’Kay, Antoine’s got my vote.” Trystan smirked as he heard Sonic choke. He didn’t look behind him, but he could _feel_ Antoine absolutely beaming with happiness.

“Seriously, man?” Sonic exclaimed.

“I’m a sucker for exotic desserts, okay? Sue me.”

By now, the sun had gone down completely, and the lights strung up shone dimly, lending to an atmosphere of calm. The music began to play. It wasn’t any kind of dancing music, something calmer, an ambience of chill-out music over the canopy of tall oaks. The stars broke through the clouds far above in the sky; for once, the night would be quiet.


End file.
